Revived
by phinflynn
Summary: In the wake of a horrible accident, Ferb is dead and Phineas is losing his mind. There are no lengths Phineas won't go to just to have his brother back... but at what cost to Ferb? Character death, gore, and Phineas/Ferb in later chapters.
1. Prologue

When the boys were fourteen, they had been unceremoniously kicked out of the garage by their father, who adored their inventions but had some creations of his own to make. They were well used to making things in the back yard, but it occurred to them on that particular day that they should have a workplace of their own for the times when the outdoors just wasn't practical. That became their project for the day - building a shed.

Their parents liked it, and Candace admitted that it would make her life easier if some of their insane inventions were just kept from view. The shed was theirs and theirs _alone_, and it found much use in the following summers as they went about seizing the day with gadgets and gizmos of all kinds.

Five years went by before it underwent the makeover.

Phineas hated to erase all those old memories by tampering with the faithful structure, but in his eyes it was the only possible option. He needed something that wouldn't vanish in a day. Something that would shield him from the prying eyes of the world around him. Something... familiar. The garage was completely out of the question and he was more than a little reluctant to venture beyond the house for this particular project.

Everyone saw him working on the shed. He didn't exactly go to any extreme lengths to hide it.

From the windows of the house, his family watched him replace the roof and reinforce the door and cart loads and loads of scrap metal and machinery inside. They saw it as a coping mechanism, a distraction so that the overwhelming pain wouldn't consume his mind. After all, Phineas Flynn was quite a resourceful young man; wouldn't that be just the sort of thing he'd do?

Isabella and Baljeet and Buford came over from time to time, and they would watch without comment as he tinkered with high-voltage power sources and tested the strength of different components and metals. They thought he may have _already_ lost his mind. They _were _the ones who would notice... they were his best friends, the ones who knew so much about him from the years spent at his side. They saw the dazed look about him and the frantic way in which he went about his business. They figured he was going to do something drastic, and perhaps a bit _sad_.

If only they knew.

* * *

It was the beginning of a frigid and dark October. The leaves of the great oak tree had turned all shades of gold and red, and when they fell, some landed on the roof of the shed and gathered at the edges. The wind and rain could remove some, but there were always a few that remained, mere tinges of fire and blood atop the dreary structure.

The windows were boarded up with wood that had been painted black. The door was secured with multiple locks and a few hidden security measures. The walls were soundproofed.

Sometimes, Linda and Lawrence and Candace were lucky enough to spot him in the kitchen, usually snatching up some food before retreating back to his shed. He didn't respond to any inquiries or requests. Sometimes he leaned over to pet a very worried Perry, but that was about it when it came to his interactions.

His three friends weren't so lucky - they _never _saw him, mostly on account of the "STAY OUT" sign he'd taped to the gate (complete with a condescending smiley face at the bottom). He didn't want their company, and they worried too much about his mental state to try and contact him regardless. Besides, they still had school; their educations couldn't be put on hold like his.

He was never absent from anyone's mind. There were hushed whispers of high hopes, optimistic thoughts that perhaps his isolation would lead to some sort of stability. Phineas Flynn wasn't fantastic at dealing with emotions by himself... but maybe this was the best that could be done. Maybe he just needed some time alone.

In the months that would follow, they would regret this lax approach to his reclusive habits. They would berate themselves for not insisting upon keeping him close and safe and away from the darkest reaches of his psyche. In hindsight, they would see every mistake. And isn't that how it always goes?

Inside that shed, under the hanging wires and machinery, Phineas was grateful for all of these things. They were doing what was _right,_ leaving him to his own devices and allowing him to do what had to be done. In the past, he had always been the leader, the thinker; what was different now? _Nothing!_ He was doing what he _always_ did and twisting the world to his satisfaction. As the days went by, as the nights grew longer, as his project came along further and further, his spirits soared to the heavens. Everything was turning out just as he wanted it to.

Everything... would be okay.

Sleepless nights and busy days passed by indiscriminately. At times, Phineas would catch his own scent underneath the overpowering stench of decay, and he had the decency to abandon his work for an hour or so to give himself a thorough shower. He ate when his stomach hurt, napped when his eyes closed of their own accord, and took breaks when his knees creaked and his hands throbbed. He was only aware of his own needs when his body began to scream at him. Until then, he worked... and worked... and worked.

And in the beginning of October, as the leaves danced to the ground and decorated the roof, he _finally_ put the finishing touches in place.

So much love went into those tiny details. The Phineas everyone knew, the Phineas who would do anything for his friends and family, was poured into those final screws and wires and paintworks. As he traced the metal rim of a carefully crafted socket with a tiny brush, he was smiling a gentle smile filled with adoration and affection and all the sweet emotions that made him so _endearing_.

In the end, that was why he did it - not because he was insane (and he definitely was), but because of that deep and never-ending love that had always been a part of his very core. He only wanted to do what he thought was best for himself... and his brother.

* * *

On the wall of the shed was a single switch which connected to all the machinery that had been constructed in the wake of the accident. After setting down his paintbrush and pushing aside his tools, Phineas reached over to this switch and flicked it into the ON position.

The small room came to life immediately. Clicks and whirs and buzzes filled the air and dissipated into the sound-proofed walls as lights flashed on from every corner. The very _earth _thrummed in tune with Phineas's erratic heartbeat.

The paint on the metal socket went from silver to blue as the orb it held came to life in a sudden flash of light.

Phineas only blinked, his face blank as he regarded the chaos before him. The mechanical parts were coming to life... but it was the organics he feared for. The remaining eye was still, the eyelids firmly closed, lashes intertwined and stuck together with the remnants of the preserving gel.

Yet... was that a flutter he saw? A _twitch, _perhaps?

Phineas leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat as he studied the face he had slaved over for weeks.

Yes. That was definitely a moving eye, and with it came parting lips and a jerking chest, a strangled attempt to breathe that ultimately succeeded. Fingers jerked, now with actual thought behind their movement, and after a few tense seconds they curled into a limp fist.

And the remaining eye _opened._

For a moment, it stared upwards at the ceiling, to the suspended life support and glimmering florescent lights. Then it slowly rolled to the side, blurry and glazed... blinked... and focused.

"...Phineas...?"

A grin spread across Phineas's tired face, and he reached forward, his fingers ghosting over his brother's cold cheek.

"Welcome back, Ferb."


	2. The Accident

September began with the tail end of summer warmth still waving across Danville. With fall already beginning to take hold elsewhere and school having begun a month prior, it seemed like a strange time for the group of adventurous teenagers to converge in the Flynn-Fletcher backyard and begin another ambitious project. Summer vacation - though shorter than it used to be - had been filled with inventions and adventures of all kinds. Why cut into their education with another day-long task?

* * *

"Why not?" Phineas asked with a delighted laugh.

Isabella put her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look, but he smirked in reply before jogging back over to the growing structure with a screwdriver in hand.

The argument was over before it had even begun. She knew this, and honestly, she was okay with it. It had always been this way - Phineas wouldn't be dissuaded once he had his mind set on something. And she would be lying if she said she didn't miss these endeavors during the school year; it was always so relaxing to come back here with the rest of the gang and make something absolutely ridiculous. "So... what is this, anyway?" she asked in a much calmer tone of voice.

"It's a scrap metal sculpture!" Phineas said. Then he paused, hesitating, before looking back over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. "Well... it's _gonna _be, anyway."

From the side of the shed came a sharp snort. Buford, as always, demanded attention when he had something snarky to say. "You dragged us back here for a freakin' _art project? _I knew ya lost some of your spark during the school year, but I didn't think it was _this _bad."

"I like it," said Baljeet, who stood a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. "Though I admit scrap metal is not my preferred medium, art is a welcome break of pace from... everything else."

The door of the shed swung open, and out stepped Ferb with a box of scrap in his arms. Phineas had opened his mouth to speak, but it was his brother who said, "Come now, 'Jeet, you love the stuff we normally do."

Buford chuckled as Baljeet sputtered for a reply. "Well, yes, but - no! No, I do not _love _it, I am merely a friend to you two and thus I join in your many adventures!"

As Ferb set the box down by Phineas's feet, Phineas took his place in the conversation back. "Aww, you know you don't mean that, dude. Maybe in the beginning that was the reason, but you love this just as much as we do! You have all kinds of fun!"

"And what, exactly, is your definition of _fun?_"

Buford pushed away from the shed and rested a hand on his best friend's shoulder, his expression a mix of amusement and affection only seen when Baljeet was present. "A'ight, stop arguin' with 'em, y'know you won't get anywhere."

"Your use of apostrophes in normal conversation is sickening," was the shaky reply.

Isabella shook her head before walking over to the brothers and looking up at the framework they'd managed to finish thus far. "So what exactly is this gonna be a sculpture _of?_" she asked. "And why scrap metal?"

Phineas laughed and handed off his screwdriver to Ferb, who pocketed it before rifling around for a different tool.

"Why not?" he asked for the second time that day. "We have enough of it, don't we? As for what it's gonna be... Ferb and I were thinking of a giant metal platypus."

"I should have guessed," Isabella said with a teasing roll of her eyes. "So is there any way I can help?"

Ferb looked up at her question, the only sign that he had been paying attention at all. "Yes, could you fetch the ladder for me, love?" His voice was sweet, yet still he showed no interest as he resumed his task.

It was funny, really, how little he had changed over the years. He _had_ begun to talk more - but hardly. A comment here, a request there, and he had gotten in his say for the day. Phineas always spoke of long nights spent laughing and talking with Ferb, but to Isabella and everyone else, he was the same silent boy he'd always been, never revealing anything other than what he deemed necessary.

"Sure thing," Isabella said before turning on her heel and heading for the garage.

"_Love?_" Baljeet asked as he walked closer to the structure. "Did you honestly just call her that?"

"British thing," Ferb said without looking up. "My apologies if I offended you."

Yet again, Buford was laughing as Baljeet struggled for some sort of response. "I - you did no such thing! I was just curious - I do not - "

"Calm down, Baljeet," Phineas said as he hid a smile behind his hand. "It's okay if you have a crush on Izzy, we won't tell."

"Right, 'cause it'd totally matter if ya did," said Buford. "We all know who she's got her eyes on."

"...We do?" Phineas lowered his hand and gave Buford a puzzled look.

"Don't even bother," Ferb said before Buford could reply. Phineas looked over at his brother with the same puzzled expression, but then Isabella was walking over to them and the conversation was at an end.

"Here you go, Ferb," she said as she opened the ladder up and set it on the grass. He offered her a smile in thanks, then moved it closer to the sculpture and bent over to gather some more materials.

Isabella returned her attention to Phineas and gave him a sweet grin. "So... show me what to do and I can help you build this thing."

"Count us in," Buford added, despite the look on Baljeet's face - not like he ever would have sat this out. Rusty tetanus-metal or not, he _always_ participated.

"Awesome!" said Phineas, who was already grinning from ear-to-ear.

He was such an endearing young man. He had a temper, and he had some sad days, but overall he was a bright and bubbly boy who was always happy with his friends and family no matter what they did. What other human being could be so affectionate over a creature he lovingly described as "not doing much"? What other teenage boy would wear pink hi-tops to school and then laugh along with the kids who teased him? Phineas was such a unique person, which often spurred the question of why his best friend in the entire world was someone so... unassuming.

Only those who didn't _know _Ferb said such things, though.

As Phineas hung up the blueprints for the giant metal platypus and began to explain them in great detail, Ferb glanced over and spared a warm and loving smile that no one even noticed. That was how it always was, really; his most emotional moments were out of view, save for the gaze of his brother, which always seemed to catch him at his most vulnerable. To be honest, he liked it that way. When other people saw him emote he felt almost... _naked, _and it was uncomfortable and made awkward by their shock at realizing he was actually - gasp! - _human. _But Phineas... he understood, and always seemed to look forward to their moments alone, when the floodgates would open and out would rush the true Ferb Fletcher.

They _fit _together. For every direction one pushed, the other pulled. They were a perfect balance of emotions and ideas and creativity, an ultimate duo unlike the world had ever seen. If they ever fought, no one knew about it. Disagreements were always short-lived and easily fixed. And perhaps more impressively than anything, they seemed to share a sort of connection no one could ever figure out - how else could their synchronization be explained? When Phineas vocalized an idea, Ferb was always right next to him with the tools they needed already in hand. They made music together, danced together, sang together, all without even a hint of rehearsal. It was as though they were bound together by invisible threads. A dual puppet, perhaps, operating under the same pair of hands.

Even at nineteen years of age this was all still true. Fifteen years together... fifteen years of commitment and adoration. Ferb had crushes (some very uncomfortable), Phineas had obsessions (some very intense), and they both had their own agendas at times... but by the end of the day they were always together again.

Always.

"Alright, everyone got that?" Phineas asked as he looked out at his three friends with one hand still on the blueprint. They answered in the affirmative, and then all four went to join Ferb by the ladder with their tools in hand.

It was then, as they began to set to work, that Isabella noticed the distinct lack of monotreme in the back yard. Sure, after so many years, she didn't _need _to point it out; none of them did. But old habits die hard.

"Where's Perry?" she asked, earning a glance from the brothers.

"Hm. That's weird," Phineas said. "Coulda sworn he was... Ah, never mind. You know Perry."

"This wouldn't be an issue if he was old and slow," Ferb said in that toneless way of his. Then a tiny flicker of a smile graced his face. "But _someone _just _had _to extend his lifespan."

"I can knock you right off that ladder, mister," said Phineas with a playful smirk.

* * *

"Behold, Perry the platypus - the Fall Apart-inator!"

Perry glared out of the tiny window left for him in the Lego pen he had been trapped in. From there he beheld that day's ridiculous invention - it looked much the same as many before it, really. Heinz wasn't _always _one for flash and flare. His machines did what they were supposed to regardless of how they were painted.

The man in question strolled into Perry's view and rubbed his hands together in what was likely an attempt at being sinister. "You see, Perry the platypus, this _entire _world is made up of things that are... well, made from other things. You put things together to make... bigger things..."

Heinz paused, then pouted and crossed his arms. "Okay, I should have thought that out before talking about it. But - but you know what I mean!" He looked over at the Lego cage, then smiled and walked over to his invention. "The Fall Apart-inator has the ability to make things... well, fall apart! From buildings to cars to clothing, I can make anything come undone in an instant!"

Perry's eyes widened, which went unnoticed, as Heinz was just getting into the meat of his rant. Something like that actually sounded _very_ dangerous. Normally he was content to wait a while before getting out of captivity, but with something like_ this._.. a misfire could easily leave someone homeless. Or worse, it could cause a catastrophic accident of some kind, and Perry would never be able to forgive himself if someone died because he didn't stop his bumbling nemesis in time.

The platypus pulled his right arm back, then punched through the wall with a somewhat anti-climactic clatter of plastic bricks on the cement floor. Heinz had only just registered the noise as Perry did an impressive front flip out of the rubble and landed in a fighting pose.

Heinz frowned and put his hands on his hips. "_Really, _Perry the platypus? _Really? _I didn't even get to tell you my back story! What, do you have some _urgent matter _to attend to? Do you not have _time _for me?"

Perry rolled his eyes and sighed. Sometimes he just didn't understand the relationship he was expected to have with this man.

He charged forward and sprung into the air, his back foot colliding with Heinz's jaw and sending him reeling backwards. Perry's next move was a jump for the self destruct button, but Heinz grabbed hold of his tail and he was yanked back into yet another annoyingly tedious battle with a middle-aged scientist who just wouldn't give up.

* * *

"Gosh, this is coming along great!" Phineas said as he looked up at the magnificent figure emerging in their backyard.

"I'll say," said Isabella with an impressed whistle. "You know, you could _probably _turn this in to one of your classes for extra credit. Not like you really need it."

Phineas laughed and waved his hand at her. "I couldn't even move this thing if I _tried, _how would I turn it in?"

"You know what I meant!" Isabella gave Phineas a shove, but she was laughing with him as she did.

Ferb came down the ladder and gave them a critical look, which went unnoticed, as did most things from him.. "You can stop flirting now," he said as he headed for a gap at the bottom of the structure.

"Flirting?" Phineas asked, earning a laugh from Buford and a flustered giggle from Isabella. Sometimes his friends wondered if he was faking it, but he was so _genuine _in his confusion.

"You're as oblivious as you are creative, dear brother," Ferb said with a sigh as he entered the gap. "Now, no one shake this thing while I check the inside, I'm not in the mood to be impaled."

"That means you, Buford," Baljeet said.

"I would never!" Buford held up his hands in defense and backed away as Baljeet continued to glare at him.

"Impalement would leave a pretty cool scar, though," said Phineas, his smile back in place.

* * *

Perry darted from the path of a kick aimed in his direction and scampered towards the -inator once more. Heinz seemed to realize how much _evil _this machine really had the potential to cause, because this battle was much harder than usual, as though he was actually _trying _for once. That or he was just miffed about being cut off mid-backstory. Not that it made too much difference either way.

"You know, it would be _nice _of you to come here and let me _win _for once!" said Heinz as he stumbled ahead to block Perry's path. "I mean, after _all _we've - "

His sentence was cut short as Perry collided with his shin and caused him to stagger backwards into the Fall Apart-inator. To Perry's horror, this activated the machine and caused it to fire out into Danville - the exact thing he'd been trying to avoid.

"Now look what you made me do, Perry the platypus!" Heinz made to sweep his arm out in a frustrated gesture, but he was pushed out of the way before he could even look properly offended.

Perry jumped up and slammed his palm down onto the self destruct button before back-flipping away from the imminent explosion.

"_Seriously?!_"

Heinz's outrage only lasted a moment or two, and then he was slouching and crossing his arms like the frustrated man-child he was. "Ugh - curse you, Perry the platypus, yadda yadda... you really _do_ ruin all the fun, I hope you know that."

Perry wasn't really listening. He had moved back to the balcony and was more focused on the town that stretched out below the building, so full of life that he was sworn to protect. He prayed to every deity he could think of that nothing of importance had been hit by the supposedly devastating beam.

* * *

"What the heck was that?" Buford asked as the last of the beam dissipated into the air.

"I dunno," Phineas said in awe. "But it sure looked cool. Too bad ya missed it, Ferb!"

He was momentarily distracted when Isabella tapped his shoulder, and he turned to her, expecting a question. What he didn't expect was the horrified look upon her face; she was pale, and silent, and when he noticed her pointing he looked back at the sculpture and followed her finger curiously.

Then he saw it - the screws were coming loose of their own accord.

"...Ferb!"

"Yes?" Ferb asked, his voice distant and disinterested.

The welding was coming undone as well; the melted bits were just... _shaking apart_, becoming their own once again. The entire thing began to shake, slowly at first and then with more intensity as bits and pieces began to slide downward.

"_Get the fuck outta there, Fletcher!_"It was Buford who yelled, of course it was; he was the only one with the right words.

Surprised, Ferb turned his head towards the gap he had entered through. From the shadows it was hard to tell exactly what was happening; just as he realized the earth was shaking, a screw fell from above and hit him on the head.

He up looked at the exact moment the entire thing gave way.

* * *

In the weeks and months that would follow, as the sky would darken and the leaves would fall to the ground, Isabella couldn't help but find herself looking back on that day over and over and _over _again. She wondered if anything could have been changed... wondered if she could have _done_ something... and wondered, most disturbingly of all, when exactly Phineas's mind had snapped.

Had it been the moment when the platypus had fallen, its great frame descending into chaos and rubble? Or was it when he got to Ferb, buried beneath the waves, so massacred by the accident? Perhaps it was even later - when Buford spoke up. Had _that_ been the final straw that snapped his head in two?

She kept hoping that Phineas would recover in some way. Grief she could handle. Anger, even. But..._ insanity?_ No, not with Phineas Flynn. That beautiful mind she'd fallen for, had idolized for so long... she couldn't bear to lose it. Not like this. Not ever.

She wondered if, perhaps, there was anything she could have attempted to prevent it. Maybe she should have held him back.

Or maybe it was just bound to happen. Fate, she had learned, was a very tricky thing.

* * *

"_FERB!_"

Seconds after Phineas's scream, he was already beside the heap of metal, practically throwing himself on it with complete disregard of the sharp edges he had so carefully avoided before.

His friends could only watch in stunned horror as he climbed the incline, tearing himself open with every move he made.

"_Ferb!_" His voice was high and loud, a heartrending screech no one had ever heard before. "Can you hear me, buddy? Are you in there? I'm coming! You're gonna be okay!"

Phineas's blood was running in rivers from his hands and knees, causing him to slip on the scraps and injure himself further in his desperate scramble to dig to the bottom. Every time he fell he seemed to take no notice. The metal tore through his sweater, his shoulders, his thighs - still he pressed on.

Buford made a move as though he were going to follow Phineas into the wreckage and drag him back, but Baljeet stopped him with one shaking hand held in front of his chest.

Phineas laughed in relief, startling all three of them as he plunged both arms all the way into the pile. "Ferb! Is that you? Oh, gosh, _Ferb_..."

He had caught hold of something and tugged it to no avail. With a desperate whine, he shoved the scrap away, even lifting a blood-drenched leg to kick it when it didn't do as he wished. After enough force he seemed to have room, and with seemingly little effort he pulled his brother's body from the depths.

Baljeet slapped a hand over his mouth, then doubled over and retched onto the grass. When he stood up again, Buford swept him into an embrace with one arm, then grabbed a petrified Isabella with the other, holding them both against his body as Phineas began to laugh again.

"Oh, Ferb, it's gonna be okay," Phineas said as he dragged Ferb off of the metal and out onto the grass. Still oblivious to his own bloodshed, he knelt beside his brother and gathered him into his arms, cradling him like he was made of glass. "C'mon, dude, just... wake up..."

What remained of Ferb's right arm seemed to finally give up and slid away from the rest of his body, thudding onto the grass next to Phineas's legs and adding to the growing pool of blood there, a sea of red that sank into the earth much too slowly.

As Phineas attempted to brush Ferb's hair back, his hand bumped the metal jutting through his brother's left eye, and for a moment he hesitated as though coming to terms with that he was seeing. And yet... it still didn't click. He was shaking his head, smiling, whispering assurances that no one was hearing.

It was Buford who spoke first, still holding his friends as he did, protecting them from the unknown. "He... he ain't wakin' up, Phineas."

The loving patience was gone in an instant as Phineas snapped his attention to Buford. The contempt in his eyes was enough to inspire fear in sharks. Even so, Buford managed to go on. "He's... he's gone, man," he said, his voice cracking on the last few syllables. Saying it aloud was too _real, _and yet he managed toe strength to say it at all.

Phineas narrowed his eyes, and then he looked down at the body in his arms, into the one eye that was still intact and staring vacantly upwards into the sky.

And he started laughing.

It wasn't the relieved laugh from moments prior. It wasn't necessarily a happy laugh, either. It was... a horrible, high-pitched noise that had never come out of him before; regardless of when exactly his mind had snapped, all three of his friends knew that his laughter came afterwards.

"_I can fix him!_"

It was Isabella who lurched forward to try and pull him away from the blood and gore even as she struggled not to lose the contents of her stomach. Phineas was still laughing when she reached for him, and when her hand met his shoulder it was as though he didn't even know she was there. He didn't register her at all until her fingers slipped and brushed against Ferb's hair.

"_DON'T TOUCH HIM!_"

She staggered back in alarm, a strangled sob leaving her lips before Buford pulled her close again.

There was practically fire in Phineas's eyes as he watched her.

* * *

Lawrence was the one that finally separated them. He was the only one who could muster up the courage to even approach the scene, and besides Buford, he was the only one who could even dream of holding onto the kicking and screaming boy who snarled venomous words to everyone who wasn't his brother.

His dead brother. Lawrence's son.

Candace had called 911 after the sculpture fell, and when the ambulance finally arrived, it was Phineas they focused their attention on. He was sedated just so he could be dealt with, his wounds cleaned and bandaged before he was loaded onto a stretcher and prepared for transport. He would be in the hospital for only a few days; for the sake of those involved, he should have never left.

As he went under, he whispered desperate pleas to help Ferb, _save _Ferb, his eyes bright and filled with fear.

When the ambulance left, they took both boys with them, leaving behind a broken family that could never be mended; in the rear view mirror, for only a moment, was a flash of teal and a heartbroken stare to complete the scene.

"I should have listened to you," Linda said to her daughter as they held each other on the doorstep. "I should have _believed _you."

Candace could not stop sobbing long enough to form a coherent reply.


	3. Going Home

The cost of the funeral was an issue brought up briefly and quickly dismissed. While not the richest family, the Flynn-Fletchers were _comfortable_, and they had the expenses to spare for this one large occasion. And what an occasion it would be - family would be flying in, friends from all over the globe would be gathering... it was an overwhelming event to plan and not something they wished to focus on. Not when more important things were at hand.

Lawrence was absolutely hysterical over the loss of his little boy. Linda was distant and nervous, constantly occupying herself to avoid facing the reality of the matter. Candace was devastated by her own inability to protect her brother and reveal the truth to her parents before it was too late. Phineas was quiet and withdrawn, always upstairs in his bedroom and murmuring to himself about what could have been and what would be. And Perry - the little domestic platypus who didn't do much - had descended into a deep depression, and seemed to have lost all will to live. His random excursions to God-knows-where had ceased entirely, and on every day leading up to the funeral, he could be found laying in his basket with the look of an animal much older than he actually was.

There were times when they came together - to eat, to receive news - and when these times came it was always Phineas who spoke first. He addressed them with tired, wide eyes, his voice inquisitive and gentle and brimming with the false innocence of a broken child.

"Is he being taken care of? Are they keeping him preserved? Are they treating him right?"

They reassured him. Told him things they didn't want to say, about how he was fine and patched up and probably looked like he was just sleeping. Made sure Phineas was calm before they went about their own business.

The questions fit, somehow, with the nightmarish reality they had been plunged into. How could they have known? In their grief, how could they possibly see his descent into madness? The seemingly random questions about the state of Ferb's corpse came across as more of a bizarre coping mechanism... not a foreshadowing of his ultimate decison.

It could have ended in a pretty wooden box on the mantle. Perhaps chestnut, or maple. A picture could be fitted into a small frame on the front. It could be his graduation photo... or a group shot of him and his friends. His family.

It could have ended that way.

* * *

"Perry the platypus? What are you doing here?"

That was the last voice he had wanted to hear, the last man he wanted to face. His fur bristled at the very thought.

Perry looked up from his place by the water bowl and made eye contact for a fleeting moment. Heinz was obviously oblivious - even after so many years the name "Flynn-Fletcher" didn't ring any bells. Sure, he had begun to recognize his nemesis sans fedora, but remember his _family_? Never. As if there were really any chances.

Perry lowered his head again and glared into the water. It was dirty and filled with flecks of food from the buffet table above, and the reflection he saw within was of a creature he didn't recognize, something twisted by grief and rage and time. He hated to look at it but was afraid to look away lest it leap out and engulf him.

Heinz hesitated, confused, and then took an eclair from the table and nibbled at it. "You don't have your hat, so it wasn't because of me. Did you know this kid?"

Perry turned away from the bowl and laid down on the pavement. Let his water-self devour him; what did it matter?

Still oblivious, Heinz continued. "Roger did. A little. He decided he wanted to come out here today and do a big speech, of all things."

Perry's chest tightened as he lifted his head from the ground. If Heinz was here because of Roger... he intended to muck things up somehow. That was always how these things went. He had come to ruin the event to defame his brother. Outraged and infuriated by the idea, Perry jumped to his feet and bared his teeth, his entire body quivering with the force of his snarl.

Heinz looked at him in shock, his snack dangling from his fingers.

"Did... did I say something wrong?" He seemed about to bolt, all too used to his nemesis's violent moods, but then realization slowly dawned upon his face - as well as indignation. He planted both feet firmly on the ground and placed a clenched fist on his hip. "I'm not going to _crash a funeral_! Honestly, Perry the platypus, I'm _bad_, but I'm not _that_ bad!"

Perry continued to shake and growl like a mad dog as the fury he had been holding back burned in his gut like a grease fire. This was all because of _Heinz. _Because of that... that horrible invention he had created, the one that had fired...

And yet... it would have hit something_ else_ if they hadn't fought. If _he_ hadn't broken out too quickly because of the threat.

And then the rage was gone, quick as it came. Perry didn't lay down so much as he melted back onto the ground.

Heinz finished the eclair slowly, his eyes on his nemesis the entire time. When there was nothing left in his hand he knelt down and looked Perry in the face. The effort to move in such a way was taxing on him, and his knees creaked in protest as he placed his hands upon them.

"You... _did _know this kid, didn't you?"

Perry's eyes turned upwards and made contact, pitiful as it was.

With a sigh, Heinz sat down next to his friend (and that was really what Perry was), unaware of or intentionally ignoring the other people nearby who would want to reach the buffet. He was focused more on his own thoughts - his _memory_. Where did he know the name Ferb Fletcher, and how was Perry related? The name had certainly sparked something when he heard it... he assumed it was because of the connection to Roger.

The time passed slowly until a figure approached them, a stark silhouette against the clouds of grieving family members dressed head to toe in mourning black.

"There you are, Perry. Is this your friend?"

Heinz looked up into the tired face of a boy much too young for such pain. He knew, in a moment, that this boy was part of Perry's family; the way he said Perry's name alone gave it away. It occurred to him, as it had in the past many times over, that this was an opportunity he could use to absolutely destroy his nemesis - a few choice words would unravel everything.

"Perry, huh? I guess it's as good a name as any for a platypus."

The boy smiled in a strained sort of way.

"I'm Heinz Doofenshmirtz," said Heinz as he struggled to his feet and dusted off his slacks. "The Mayor's brother."

"Phineas," said the boy as he extended his hand for a shake. "The dead kid's brother."

"...Oh." Heinz took the boy's hand gently, as though it might break. "I, uh... I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like you killed him."

When Perry cringed in response, Phineas seemed to take it as a plea for affection and promptly scooped his pet into his arms. It was odd for Heinz to see Perry treated in such a way... just being picked up like a sad sack of potatoes. He didn't even _resist_. How many times had Heinz tried to lift his friend up to a ledge or seat only to have his hand swatted away?

Phineas turned to leave without so much as a_ goodbye, nice to meet you_. Heinz assumed that meant he could follow, and he did so with a strange eagerness; he had never expected to meet Perry's family. Even in such grim circumstances it was exciting. He could learn so many things! O

"So... this is probably gonna sound pretty tasteless," said Heinz as they walked, his hands groping for pockets that didn't exist in an attempt to appear casual, "but... how did he die? I just, you know, I followed Roger..."

Phineas stumbled over his own feet and stopped short, hugging Perry to his chest as though someone were trying to take him away. In the silence, Heinz could hear the English relatives talking amongst themselves, could hear them crying as they placed keepsakes beside the gleaming black casket at the center of it all. The last funeral he'd been too wasn't nearly as sad. Then again, his father wasn't a very beloved man.

Heinz's eyes fell to Perry, who was looking at his owner with such _fear_. Perry the platypus... in fear. In was surreal.

"We were... making a sculpture" Phineas finally said. As he straightened himself, his lips spread into a queer smile that spoke deeply of what was within his head. "Made of scrap metal. It was coming along fine... we almost had in finished..." He pet Perry's head a little too hard and looked away. "Then this... _ray,_ I guess... flew over us... hit it while he was inspecting the inside..."

Heinz's eyes widened a little, his eyebrows jumping up in alarm. His heart, a decayed thing that surged only for Vanessa and perhaps a few others he'd prefer to not name, thudded into his gut.

"...It fell apart," Phineas said. "Just like that. Everything came undone, and it fell on top of him, and..."

Perry looked at Heinz. It was a cold look, but it was sad, too, and Heinz knew why. Oh, in that moment, he _knew_. And for all the evil he did and would continue to do... this was too much. He wanted power, and respect, and fear... but _death?_ The destruction of innocence in those dark blue eyes? The suffering inflicted upon one of his only friends? The machine was meant to harmlessly bulldoze a few statues, not this, _never _this...

"...That... that's horrible."

"We still don't know how it happened," whispered Phineas, his lips quivering as he spoke. The walls were crumbling down.

Without another word, Heinz reached out and pulled the boy into an embrace. Phineas collapsed into him, sobbing, mumbling nonsense into the lapels of Heinz's best (and only) suit. In a moment he had ceased being Phineas and was now Vanessa, weeping in her prettiest dress, so afraid that she allowed her father to hold her. Heinz could feel tears in his own eyes. The pain he saw here... the pain _he _had inflicted... it was all too much to bear.

Perry chattered in agitation, wriggling in an attempt to free himself from the space between them.

"Thank you," said Phineas in a weak mumble as he pulled away. "I'm sorry, I thought I... had that under control." He wiped his eyes with the back of one hand, the other arm still wrapped around Perry, who was confused and staring at Heinz in an obvious plea for answers.

Heinz shook his head. "No, don't apologize. You just went through something traumatizing. It's expected."

"Oh, of course. Of course..." The queer smile had returned with a vengeance. "But everything will be okay soon."

Guests were beginning to take their seats as Mayor Doofenshmirtz approached the casket, a sheaf of papers in his hand. He spoke in hushed tones to the grieving parents who held each other beside the podium, and as the conversation went on, they seemed to grow more and more upset. They daughter joined them in short time and seemed to take over for them.

"You aren't going to kill yourself, are you?" Heinz asked in a shocked whisper.

Perry looked up as Phineas shook his head.

"No, no. That wouldn't solve anything."

Roger stepped away and took his place behind the podium with the papers set out where they could easily be read. After a brief once-over of his speech, he raised his eyes to the crowd and cleared his throat. It was a sound that demanded attention and achieved its goal. The service was beginning.

Heinz placed a hand on Phineas's shoulder and walked with him until they came upon his seat, which was hidden safely in the back so no one would see the mayor's shameful excuse for a sibling. Confused, Phineas paused there, and all eyes were on him as they waited for him to join his remaining family. He was oblivious - as always - and only had eyes for Heinz as he slouched into his chair.

"Go sit down, kid," Heinz said. "They're waiting for you."

Phineas opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned back at the people watching him. Their eyes still didn't leave him.

If Ferb was there, he would understand...

"You stay here with Mister Doofenshmirtz," Phineas said to Perry, who didn't struggle in the slightest as he was placed on his nemesis's lap. He merely gave his boy a gentle look before laying down on the familiar bony legs. It wasn't the best situation for him - he was still very much upset - but he understood Phineas's intentions and would play along.

Phineas reached out with a hand that wasn't quite steady, and Heinz took it in his own shaking grip. This was not a greeting; it was an embrace, a silent promise, a gentle reassurance. From one broken scientist to another.

Phineas's hand slipped from Heinz's fingers, and then he turned away and walked to his place in the front row.

"He's a good kid," Heinz said with a smile, and Perry chattered back at him in reply.

With everyone seated, Roger glanced down at his script one last time before looking up to face the crowd. When he spoke, his voice carried out across the graveyard, seemed to reverberate off of the stones.

"My friends... we are gathered here today to lay to rest one of the most brilliant minds Danville has ever known. Perhaps one of the most brilliant minds the _world _has ever known."

He paused, gauging the reactions, and then went on solemnly.

"Ferb Fletcher was a young child of nine when I first met him ten years ago. It wasn't a life-changing meeting; I met he and his brother by coincidence, and learned, in our brief time together, that they were young inventors and dreamers. In this past decade I have seen this and more proved time and time again.

"Ferb and his brother Phineas have been key forces in making this town as great as it is. I cannot even count the times they have shown up at my office, full of brilliant ideas and quick fixes to problems even_ I_ couldn't solve."

Roger observed the crowd before him, full of Fletchers and Flynns and the people Phineas and Ferb had met and helped over the years. Then he continued on with confidence.

"Lawrence and Ferb Fletcher were both born in England, and they migrated here when Ferb was just a little boy. Being an immigrant myself, I understand the life one is expected to lead and the trials they must face. And I say to you, my grieving friends, that young Ferb was an American to end all Americans. He was a gift of spirit and intelligence, a man I would have gladly given my mayorship to, if the opportunity arose.

"As we gather here today to remember his life, I want it to be known that the world is a darker, colder place without his presence. Let us grieve for the life that has been lost... and the lives forever changed by his departure. May he rest in peace, eternally, his brilliance a shining star in Heaven."

"Sounds like he was pretty amazing," said Heinz as Perry covered his eyes with his paws and sobbed.

Roger left the podium and was replaced by a tearful Lawrence, who described his son to the audience as though they had not all met him before. Linda was after him, sharing anecdotes and love, wrapped in the assurance that he was just as much her son as Phineas. Candace spoke next, shaking and sorrowful, lips pulled into a tired smile as she recalled the life lost - the life she had taken responsibility for as a Big Sister.

Phineas did not go after her. Next was Isabella, and then Buford and Baljeet, and various foreign family members. Vanessa even came to share a few words about the eccentric boy she had grown rather fond of. Heinz had been entirely unaware of this connection, and was extremely confused, but the grieving platypus in his lap offered no explanation.

Many people chose to speak of Ferb. Everyone had a different story to tell, a new insight to share - but none could beat the final speech. It _was _Phineas who stepped up last, naturally, and he had prepared this painful occasion with a projector and a laptop full of home movies. There was no paper in his hands. No script. As it was for all of his life, he spoke freely, unhindered.

The projector whirred to life and cast a faded image upon the screen placed before it. It was a strange thing to those assembled; for all the high-tech gadgets the boys just up and _built, _something so ancient seemed pointless. For Phineas, it did as it was supposed to.

The first film was of the second day Ferb had spent in their house. His family and friends were treated to a wide-eyed toddler with a soft voice as Phineas began to speak.

"When I was four years old, my mom brought home a stranger and his son to meet me and Candace. She told us that the stranger was a man she used to know, a long time ago, before she was a mom. She told us that he and his son were from another country and had moved back to the states because they needed a new home.

"The minute I met Ferb, I knew he was going to be my best friend in the whole world."

The clumsy toddler sat down on his rump, a young Phineas following suit, and the clip ended. The next was their first day of grade school. Both boys were dressed their best, holding each other's hands as they waved to the camera.

"He didn't share this premonition, but within the next few weeks we _did _get pretty close. By the time our parents got married, we were _inseparable_, and no matter what happened that never changed. Ferb and I became close friends - perhaps the_ best_ friends the world has ever _seen._"

He gazed out at them, his eyes cold, body language withdrawn. On the screen the two young boys boarded their bus, and then it ended. The next was years later - during the first great summer. Two nine-year-olds held out a gleaming contraption for the camera to see as Candace fumed in the background.

"Ten years ago, during summer vacation, Ferb and I came to the realization that we were letting life slip us by. This was when we adopted the philosophy of _carpe diem_ - Latin for seize the day."

Phineas smiled here, a wry upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Or you could say that seize the day is English for carpe diem."

The boys on the screen were now showing their mother an amazing feat Perry had learned - if asked enough times, he would sit on command. Candace was less than amused as she stood behind them, her hands on her hips.

"Many times throughout our life, people have asked Ferb about why he never speaks. He's never gotten in a good answer. If there is one, he's never told me. While the world has only seen a stoic, quiet kid, I always saw a bright and snarky boy who had a million things to say if given the chance. Maybe he just doesn't like talking to most people, who knows? But in private, in the safety of our bedroom, he opens up like a blooming flower. Ferb has told me things that have stuck with me for _years_. He is a philosopher, a trickster, a mastermind, and a complete _dork._"

Another clip began to play. Teenagers now, perhaps about fourteen, Phineas and Ferb danced together in the living room as their family howled with laughter.

"In short, Ferb is not someone to be forgotten. He is not someone who _goes away._"

Older now, fifteen, maybe sixteen. Ferb lounged on a pool floatie with a soda in hand. Somewhere out of view, there was a yell, and he looked up just in time to see Phineas cannonball into the public pool. Linda - the camerawoman, as always - laughed up a storm as Ferb fell into the water, soda and all. Phineas was giggling like a madman when his brother resurfaced with murder in his eyes.

"I _refuse_ to let this be the end. There is no end to Ferb. To us. Not after all these years and all these_ memories_. Not after what we've been through."

Ferb's eighteenth birthday. Expensive gifts were littered before him, all appreciated and admired in turn. Phineas then approached with a small box. The family's faces suggested their expectations - something priceless, something amazing. Upon opening the box Ferb only found a wrench with his name carved onto the handle. And yet... the look on his face said this was the best gift of all. The brothers embraced to a chorus of cooing.

"This isn't the end."

The last clip faded to black, and Phineas left his place at the podium and gathered up the laptop. The projector wasn't his, and it was abandoned as he returned to his seat.

There were no words on his performance. In fact, there were hardly any words at all; aside from the odd whisper, the crowd was silent, and the decision to begin the burial was unspoken.

Heinz joined Phineas at his seat when Lawrence and Roger and a few other men had shouldered the casket and begun to walk away with it. He handed Perry back when Phineas was on his feet, and together they watched the procession. It was odd how they came together now, of all times... the beginning of the end.

The dreary afternoon light glinted off of the polished casket before it was again shielded by the clouds. Heinz found himself impressed by its craftsmanship. He hadn't looked at many coffins in his life, but this one... this was _something_. He wondered how much it had cost and if that was something he could ask in a tasteful manner. He looked to Phineas, intending on making at attempt, but one look at his companion's face stopped the words in his throat.

The sorrow from earlier was gone. In its place was something... _sinister, _something calculating and _cold. _

The pastor hired for the event began to speak as the casket was lowered into the earth. He spoke of many things; God's love, and Heaven, and salvation... things Heinz thought were very much _absent_ from the scene.

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

Phineas's absence from the grave was not unnoticed; his sister was watching him from her place with her parents, almost _glaring _as the earth was shoveled over what had once been her other brother. The wicked smile on his face did nothing to ease her annoyance with him.

"Mister Doofenshmirtz, I'm _always _planning something."

* * *

The night was warm and heavy with an oncoming rain. Phineas was dressed for the occasion, just as he had been dressed for the funeral - only this time, instead of a suit, it was a rain slicker and waterproof combat boots. He had work to do, and he wasn't going to allow rain or mud to get in his way.

There were no high-tech gadgets accompanying him on this dreary October evening. There was only a shovel and a large red wagon he'd dug out of the garage.

A car would be best, of course, but that meant turning it on and alerting the entire family that he was _leaving_ and then _returning._ Might they ask where he'd been? What he'd done? The risk was too great. Under the cloak of darkness he felt much safer, especially with the freshly-oiled wagon that rolled silently behind him.

The walk wasn't far, and the graveyard was easy to get into. Danville was a safe little town, a place with minimal security because it was all they found necessary. The gates weren't even locked - just latched shut.

The shovel clanged against tombstones as Phineas passed them, no longer worried about being heard because he knew no one watched the graveyard at night. He had done his research before arriving and was able to navigate his way through as though he owned the place.

The dirt was still uneven and soft over Ferb's grave. Phineas tested it with a prod of his foot, then dropped the handle of the wagon and plunged the shovel deep into the ground.

Unearthing the coffin was not easy work. The hole had been filled by _machines,_ and Phineas, weak in his grief and never very tough to begin with, was largely inferior. This did not deter him. His family was occupied with their own sadness, and in the shadows of the night he saw no passing cars or wandering teenagers. He had all the time in the world... or at least until the sun came up.

"I told them I could fix you," he said to himself as he worked. "I was hysterical, sure, but I wasn't _lying. _What kind of brother would I be to let this be the end of everything?"

The night offered no response. After years of being Ferb's constant companion, he hadn't expected one anyway.

Phineas could hear owls hooting in the distance, and it gave him confidence; being silent and intelligent, they had always reminded him of his brother. They were so mysterious and untouchable... but _he _had been able to touch one. And soon, he would touch his hunter again.

His arms ached more and more with each passing hour. Blisters formed on his fingers, became ugly bubbles that popped and smeared blood all over the shovel's wooden handle. Phineas paid no mind to any of this. Pain was only a distraction.

And in the end, despite the aches and blood and_ exhaustion_, he still managed to pry open the coffin all by himself.

The sight within almost took his breath away.

"Oh, Ferb... _Look_ at you... we have a lot of work to do, don't we?"

He touched Ferb's face with one bloody, filthy hand, his fingers tracing the stitches that kept the left eye closed. That wouldn't do. He needed _two _functional eyes. Not to mention two functional arms and legs...

"It's gonna be a long few weeks, huh pal?" Phineas asked with a little laugh. The pallid corpse offered no reply. Again, he hadn't really expected one.

While he wasn't very wide or toned, Ferb _was _tall, and he had a lot of mass to him. Phineas struggled a bit with the weight but managed to get both of them out of the hole in due time. With the utmost care he placed Ferb in the wagon, and then he returned to the grave and began to shovel the dirt back in.

"This will be easier," he said with an excited grin. "It's _much_ less taxing putting the dirt back. Especially knowing I have you back! I swear, Ferb, I could lift_ cars_ right now. I can't believe this is happening. You've been gone too long..."

A crow shrieked somewhere in the trees.

"Of course, you're not _quite _back yet," Phineas went on in a conversational tone. "I have a lot of things to fix. But don't you worry, Ferb-meister, you'll be back on your feet in no time!"

He turned from his task to look at Ferb's body, a small frown tugging at his lips. Then he returned to the grave. "Of course, you'll need a new foot first..."

The bloated clouds above could stand it no longer. As Phineas spoke to his brother, the first few flecks of water splattered down, and in no time at all it had become a torrential downpour that turned the new grave into mud. Never one to dwell on the negatives, Phineas patted down what he'd managed to get back in before turning to the wagon and sighing in mild annoyance.

"Time to go, dude," he said. "You smell bad enough as it is. Don't want you out _here_." He clucked his tongue, then pulled the hood of his rain slicker over his head and grabbed the handle of the wagon. The wheels stuck in the mud a few times on the way out, but Phineas always managed to get it free.

The shovel clanged against the tombstones the same as before. It was almost an eerie melody, the song of _going home. _

Phineas whistled as he walked.


	4. Alive

It had been swift.

Time passed; how much, or how little, was unknown to him. Most things were unknown to him. He became a shadow on the fringes of the universe, a lone consciousness drifting through the nether with neither shape nor memory. What happened in that time may as well have only been a dream. He had dreamed the nothing, and now...

He was _awake _again. Only instead of being in his bed, he was somewhere darker, somewhere smaller, somewhere filled with machines and wires... That couldn't be right. None of this was right. With growing alarm he remembered where he had been, remembered that he had _not _slept, that he had been in the belly of a metal beast -

Someone else was there. They were silhouetted by the lights, a shadow of a person, yet their form was unmistakable even for its subtle changes. The longer hair. The apron.

"...Phineas...?"

And Phineas _smiled _at him, smiled like his voice was the greatest thing to hear, as if all was right in the world and this strange place was just a humble part of the scenery. Phineas's fingers, so light on his cheek, radiated warmth - was he cold? He couldn't tell.

"Welcome back, Ferb."

Ferb. Yes, his name was Ferb. And he had gone away.

"Back?" He said it slowly, testing it on his tongue, which felt like a lump of dead meat between his teeth. Everything was so _dry. _Even the air felt alive with electricity. _Alive, _but also dead, dead and dry and rotting.

Ferb put a hand to his aching head and sighed.

Phineas moved away from him, but was back in an instant, his fingers spidering their way to Ferb's throat.

"Yes, back," said Phineas, still smiling as though this were the happiest day on earth. "You've been out for a while. I thought... Well, never mind what I thought. You're back now."

The ache in Ferb's head subsided, and as he pulled his hand away, he saw the stitches along his forearm and over his wrist, knew then that what he remembered had been true. The sculpture they were building (a platypus, of course, everything was platypuses with them) had fallen, had sliced open his arm and who knew what else.

Phineas would know, though.

"Is that better?" Phineas asked as he drew away, a thick cable in his hand. "Your head was hurting, right? I'm sorry about that, I should have shut off the switch as soon as you... Never mind. How do you feel?"

There were heavy bags under his eyes, and his _hair_... Ferb knew it was shorter last he saw it. He knew that beautiful boy like the back of his own hand, only _better,_ because it was Phineas. Time had passed and he had known that, but how _much _time? Had he been in the hospital, that would be one thing, but he was _here... _

Ferb raised his arm again and inspected the stitches. His vision seemed better; he could make out the very fibers if he focused hard enough. Phineas had done them, surely... And this building was probably the shed. Phineas had taken his unconscious body into the shed and treated his wounds.

"You didn't take me to a hospital."

Phineas surprised him by laughing.

"A hospital? Oh, no. I mean, the ambulance came, and they treated _me _because I tore myself up looking for you..." Phineas shook his head and looked away, to the windows. Unease blossomed in Ferb's stomach as he realized they were boarded up.

"Check out your _other _arm," Phineas said. "Then maybe you'll figure it out. I know you like to do that, make things out by yourself."

Of course he knew that. Ferb offered his brother a small smile, then lifted his right arm - only it didn't really _lift. _It was more like a slice through the air, and then it was still, gleaming in the lights above in an almost picturesque way.

It was _gleaming._

Because it was completely _metal._

Ferb quickly sat up on the table, his arm flexing and twisting effortlessly before his eyes. He clenched his fist and found that he could feel his fingers in his palm as though they were still made of flesh... Only he could feel the metal, too, and it was smooth and cold and not human at all.

As he considered this modification, Ferb realized how much _heavier _his body felt. Not only at the shoulder, but within his body, in his gut and his chest... The arm was not the only change.

Phineas's grin seemed much less endearing in the wake of this revelation.

"What happened to me, Phineas?" Ferb asked in a whisper. His throat was as dry as his tongue, and he rasped when he spoke. "Why is my arm like this? What did you _do?_"

"Do you like it?" Phineas was practically bouncing in place, obviously brimming with excitement. "You have _no_ idea how hard it was to build without you. _Everything _was hard. It took me an entire month! Can you believe that? And I was working nonstop, too!" His hands were moving now; he was really into his speil, like he had been waiting to talk for ages. "I mean I didn't realize how much I _couldn't _do in a day before! I never really had to think about it, but then there I was, working on the _same thing _more than once. I mean -"

"Phineas!"

He stopped abruptly, all focus on Ferb.

"What were you even _doing? _What _happened _to me?"

Ferb hated when he had to ask questions. Judging by the look on Phineas's face, the feeling was more or less mutual.

"You... You remember, don't you? The scrap sculpture?"

Ferb sighed and brought his right hand up to his forehead. Against skin, the metal was absolutely frigid. "Of course I do. It fell, didn't it? On top of me? What happened to me _after _that, Phineas? Why wasn't I in a hospital? What all did you _do?_"

"Well, what do you _think _happened?"

Ferb attempted to narrow his eyes and was surprised by a small, barely noticeable vibration from his left eye. He lifted his hand to feel it, then jerked it back in surprise.

Glass.

His eye was glass.

And within the glass would no doubt be more mechanics, with wires that went to his _brain, _implying that Phineas had opened his entire _head _-

"The metal tore you to shreds, dude."

Ferb returned his attention to Phineas, his organic eye opened wide. Phineas was smiling even more now. _Grinning, _in fact.

"But I fixed it. I fixed everything. I told them I could, Ferb, I told them nothing would keep us apart."

Ferb shook his head, trying his best to deny what was becoming more and more clear, what he was sure could not be _possible -_

"Not even death."

* * *

A heavy and unforgiving rain had begun to fall on Danville. Most residents had long ago sheltered themselves inside, leaving only the few stragglers unlucky enough to be forced outdoors by their obligations.

As the torrent cascaded down and turned the dirt into mud beneath the grand oak tree of miracles, Perry the platypus quietly thanked evolution for giving him a watertight coat.

His place beneath the tree was a constant reminder of what had been lost, but he remained out of a faithful duty to his remaining child, who so rarely came in long enough for indoors to be sufficient. Perry's first and foremost concern was always his boys; his own feelings, and the current weather, were irrelevant.

Not that Phineas ever really came out of the shed either. Not while Perry was awake, anyway. He was always locked away behind that horrible metal door, messing with things so important that he seemed to neglect all of his basic functions rather than leave it be. None of it sat very well with Perry. He regretted never setting up an escape tunnel in the shed, which he would have willingly crawled through in order to see what Phineas was up to. The door, being the only realistic option, was much too heavy for him to move on his own.

For the thousandth time that day, Perry lifted his head and looked towards the building with a longing sigh. He wondered, for the first time, if he could coerce Heinz into opening the door for him. He probably could. Perry knew that. Heinz would be more than willing to follow him and help out, would be _happy _to do anything that might repair their fractured relationship.

Perry just couldn't find it within himself to actually make it happen.

Having Heinz at the funeral was one thing; bringing him home was entirely another. Now, more than ever, Perry wanted to keep his nemesis at arm's length. Knowing he was sorry wasn't enough. The one time Monogram had even suggested he go out and stop Heinz, "to clear his mind," Perry instantly had flashbacks of the very moment that horrid machine had fired. Seeing the man who made it wasn't at the top of his to-do list.

Still... He wished he could go through that door. Phineas could be doing _anything, _and if he got hurt, who would know? Perry couldn't lose _another _child. The first was bad enough. Oh, to come home to the deafening wail of sirens... to see the _body bag... _It was the worst day of Perry's entire life.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought about it, and he covered his face with his paws. He had cried _so much _in the past month. Each day was more of a struggle than the last. Even after so much time had passed, he still found himself thinking Ferb might just walk out of the house and come give him a pet. He had to be there somewhere; one does not just _vanish._

But Ferb _hadn't _vanished. He had been in the body bag, and later, in the coffin. Perry knew this. He had seen these things with his own eyes, had heard his family speak, had known their suffering without ever being able to _show _them that he _knew. _

His breath started coming in gasps, and he knew he would start to sob soon; he was glad he was alone, and in the rain, so that no one could see.

Because he _had _to keep his cover. If he blew it, he would never see them again, and that would be like losing _all _of them. He had to maintain an air of domesticity lest he ruin his life even further. And besides, Phineas _needed _him. Even if they barely had contact now, Perry was still the only one he interacted with at _all, _and when he slept, it was Perry he held in his arms. This was _important. _

And really, he needed Phineas, too. He needed all of his family. Losing them because he showed too much emotion just wasn't worth it.

Anger replaced the sorrow as Perry pounded his fists into the mud. Damn the O.W.C.A. and their rules! They were the _only_ reason why he couldn't comfort his family like a _human! _And still, they were also the reason why he even _existed, _and to wish they had never been would be to wish himself away. If only they would just relax their rules a little. Phineas would believe any story they gave him! He could be made to think Perry was some one-of-a-kind government experiment! Phineas was trustworthy - they _knew _he was! They had watched him grow up alongside Perry himself!

With a heavy sigh he sat up and stretched out his legs, massaging his knees as tears continued to drip from his bill. There was no use in being mad. He could do nothing, and he _knew _he could do nothing. That was the beauty of the O.W.C.A., really; he was screwed with them and screwed without them.

"Perry?"

Alarmed, Perry fell onto his back and assumed a helpless stuck-turtle pose.

It was Candace who came to "free" him from the mud, and she surprised Perry by pulling him into an embrace. She was getting mud all over her nice sweater!

"Oh, Perry, what are you doing out here?" she asked as she pet his back. "You should be inside. And you probably need a bath..."

Perry pushed himself away from her and chattered. Though if he was honest with himself, a bath sounded _wonderful. _

Candace laughed and cradled him in her arms. He realized then that she was on her knees, in the _mud, _and was getting absolutely _drenched _ - since when did she expend so much effort on _him? _

"I know you don't like baths, but you're filthy," she said. "Besides, wouldn't it be nice? Getting all clean and warm? I wouldn't mind a bath myself! Maybe I can wear my bathing suit and we can take one together."

Oh, that sounded so nice. Perry relaxed into Candace's arms to hopefully encourage her to do as planned.

Then he remembered the door.

Perry leapt from her arms and ran over to the shed, chattering as he went. Candace pushed herself to her feet and followed. He watched her as she walked, found himself amazed as ever by the swing of her hips. Even when depressed she walked with confidence. Becoming an adult looked good on her.

"You want in there?" Candace asked in a worried tone of voice. "I don't know, Perry... Phineas has been pretty clear about no one going in." She hesitated, then bit her lip. "I am worried about him, though... I bet you just wanna check on him, huh, Perry?"

He chattered in reply.

Candace leaned over to pick him up, and he allowed it, even relaxed in her grip right away. He could feel her shaking as she pet his head. Whether it was because of the rain or her anxiety, he wasn't sure.

She seemed hesitant as they stood before the door, and Perry could feel her heartbeat as it pounded out of control.

Then she raised her hand to knock.

* * *

"Everything is functioning properly. To be honest, I was expecting worse than that - but you always subvert expectations, huh, Ferb?"

Ferb remained silent as Phineas milled about behind him. The electric cables hooked into his back twitched momentarily, and he refrained from glancing back to see why. He was trying his hardest to pretend they didn't even exist.

Unfazed by the silence, Phineas went on. "Now, you mostly run on electricity, plus a little motor oil to keep everything running smoothly. But here's the neat part - you've _also _got artificial blood! That one was a doozy to figure out, believe me. I wanted to just use oil, but keeping your skin alive just wasn't going to work out with that. You better start wearing sunscreen, because if you get skin cancer after all that work I went through, I'm gonna be pretty ticked."

He laughed at his own morbid joke, loud and clear and _happy. _Ferb remained silent, his fingers tightening on the edges of the table.

Phineas reappeared before him and looked into his eyes before scribbling his apparent findings on a clipboard. "Optic performing flawlessly... Organic _working..._"

If he had seen any of the anger or pain in Ferb's eyes, he made no mention of it. Nothing in his body language suggested he had known. That was typical, really; Ferb hadn't expected any less.

As Phineas set down his clipboard on the counter and untied his thick butcher's apron, Ferb found himself falling into the familiar old habit of admiring his brother's body. Only this time, instead of being excited by what he saw, he was dismayed; the black sweater and jeans Phineas wore hung loosely off of his frame, which was significantly thinner than Ferb recalled it being.

The anger began to ebb as worry took its place.

"...Phineas?"

"Hm?" Phineas turned on his heel and stepped to Ferb's side, his hands already going for the cables. "Are you alright? Everything feeling okay?"

"Have you been eating?"

Phineas faltered and took a step back.

"Uh... no," he said as he busied himself with the clipboard again. "I haven't been doing a lot of things, actually... Sleeping, brushing my hair, changing my clothes... Bathing... I know that's gross."

Ferb frowned, his shoulders slumping under the unseen weight of his brother's health. Phineas noticed and turned away completely.

"It's _really gross, _I know, I'm sorry. I... I'll take a shower tonight, promise. You don't have to -"

"Phineas."

They made brief eye contact, and then Phineas was looking at the floor. It wasn't often that he neglected himself, but it had happened in the past - it was always Ferb who reminded him to care for himself when things got hectic.

Now...

"You have to eat," said Ferb as he held out a hand. "And all of those other things. Aren't you hungry?"

Phineas took his hand and held it firmly, his eyes wandering up until they made contact again. "I... I know. I'm sorry. I _get _hungry, I just... I had to finish this..."

"I know you did. It's finished now. Go eat."

The laugh that left Phineas was uplifting, and Ferb found himself relaxing as his brother squeezed his hand. "I will, I will! Don't have a cow, _Mom._"

Phineas was still giggling as Ferb rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. It was all in good fun; he'd have punched Phineas if he weren't afraid it might shatter his entire body.

They were hugging before he knew it, and Ferb was more than happy to melt into the embrace, his metal arm tracing the contours of Phineas's body with new interest. The nerve endings worked so _well. _

"I missed you," said Phineas as he pulled away. "A lot. I'm so glad you're back, Ferb."

Ferb opened his mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, that must be Mom!" Phineas grinned and clapped his hands together, then ushered Ferb from the table. "I knew she'd come out here eventually - oh, she's gonna be so _excited! _Wait until she sees your new eye!"

"Phineas, I'd rather not -"

Phineas was already heading for the door, leaving Ferb to back away into the shadows, praying he wouldn't be seen.

He hadn't even begun to consider the rest of the family. The day the strange machine landed in their backyard, the one they reverse engineered, their mother had gone completely crazy trying to get rid of it or get their father to see it; Ferb had always known she would have much the same reaction towards anything else of that nature, especially one he and Phineas built. _This... _this was so much more than that in all the worst ways.

He had been _dead. _

She couldn't see him revived.

When Phineas opened the door, it was not Mum standing there in the rain - it was Candace and Perry. Ferb's heart sank even lower as he pressed himself against the back wall. In the darkness, he could clearly see the blue glow emanating from his left eye.

"Candace! Hi!" Phineas put a hand on his sister's arm, then on Perry's head. "Oh, there you are, Perry! How are you guys?"

"Well, you're in a good mood," Candace said with a tired smile. "We were just checking on you. Perry was..."

Ferb stilled his body as much as he was physically able in a desperate attempt to become one with the wall. Still, she saw him, even made eye contact with him. Through the optic he could see the color drain from her face.

She turned her head until her eyes were back on Phineas. Her mouth opened, but for a few moments, there were no words.

"Phineas..."

"It's great, isn't it?" Phineas asked with a gleaming grin. "My best work yet. I _told _you guys I could fix it, didn't I? You have to _trust _me."

Candace shook her head slowly, her eyes drifting back to Ferb, locking onto him.

"What have you _done?_"

* * *

Perry wondered how he had not known what was happening.

It all _fit. _All the hints and clues from the day it happened onward, all the little puzzle pieces picked up along the way, fit together to form a picture of _Ferb. _He was at the dead center of it all. That one cog that made the entire machine work.

And here he was.

Candace was shaking harder, and now Perry knew it was _definitely _the anxiety. She had every right to be upset. What she was seeing was right out of a horror film, a monstrosity cobbled together from pieces of her dead brother. His face was gouged and scarred, his right arm a metal skeleton, his left a stitched gray mess...

But in the remaining eye, Perry could see _Ferb. _

He jumped down from her arms and looked up to her, pleased to have her attention for just long enough to toss his head in an indication for her to leave. Perry would handle this. He had to.

Candace did not wonder why he was suddenly acting in such a way; she only did as she was told and made her exit.

"Candace, where are you going? Are you going to get Mom?" Phineas waited for a reply and only got the back door slamming in response. He shrugged, then looked down to the ground and smiled.

"Hiya, Perry," he said. "You wanna say hi to Ferb?"

Perry looked at Phineas for a moment, then took a hesitant step towards the shadows in the back of the shed. They shifted in unease and attempted to back away from him, but there was no more room to back into.

Perry chattered to let his boy know it was alright.

The blue light on the left side of Ferb's face flickered, then dimmed as he sighed and closed his eye. Perry could tell he was afraid. Of course he was; who wouldn't be? Perry was scared too. Of a _lot _of things. But he could still see his child in that eye, knew this was the same boy who had been alive only a month prior, the same boy he slept with every other night.

What Phineas had done... was abhorrent.

But Perry did not disagree with it.

Finally, Ferb knelt to the ground, one of his legs creaking as he did so; there was more metal than just his arm. Of course there was.

Ferb held out his arms, and Perry broke into a run and thudded against his chest.

"Perry!" Ferb said, laughing as Perry pawed at his neck and face and licked his nose. This was _definitely _Ferb, one-hundred percent. His boy. His precious baby boy who had been in that awful body bag, who they had hidden away in the coffin, who he never got to say _goodbye _to - this was his boy.

"Somebody missed you," said Phineas from his spot by the door. "See, Ferb? You've got nothing to worry about."

Ferb held Perry up above his head and laughed again as Perry struggled to reach him. "If everyone thought like our platypus, the world would be a _much _different place."

"That it would." Phineas approached them and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, so Ferb could pass Perry to him. Perry had so dearly missed being loved on by the both of them. He missed _them. _He missed their being together, missed everything they did and even the things they didn't do. There had never been one without the other, never been just a Phineas or a Ferb; it was _Phineas and Ferb, _and it had been that way since they were four years old.

Fifteen years of love and imagination almost cut short by a stupid machine and a useless fight.

Ashamed of himself and overwhelmed by his emotions, Perry laid across Phineas's lap and buried his face in Ferb's offered hand.

They stayed that way for several blissful minutes, their silence broken only by Perry's occasional chatter when Ferb dared to stop petting his head. He would have been content to stay there for the rest of forever if he could. The world was back in balance and he was _happy. _

"We should go see mom," Phineas said.

Perry lifted his head and frowned, but it went unnoticed between them.

"I... don't know about that." Ferb reached for the head that was no longer there, then set his hand on his lap. "I doubt she's going to take this well..."

Phineas shrugged and absently lifted Perry's tail before letting it drop back on his legs. "You can't live out here. It's gotta happen sooner or later, and I'm sure she'll be happy."

_No, she won't, _Perry thought, but he didn't otherwise object as he was lifted and carried to the door.

Ferb was waterproof; that was good to know. Perry wouldn't expect anything less from Phineas.

He wondered, as they reached the back door, if he should have been more afraid.

* * *

"M-Mom... Mom, you have to... see what Ph-Phineas did..."

Linda tightened her grip on the wash cloth she held and exhaled hard through her nose. _Not now, _she thought to herself, but the tears were already starting. She turned from the sink with some already trailing down her cheeks.

"Candace, no," she said, her voice as firm as she could manage. "Unless your brother has shot himself in the head, I don't want to hear it." It was harsh, and a bit gruesome; but in that moment, her head ringing with a thousand memories of _Mom, Mom, come see what Phineas and Ferb did!_, it was all she could manage to say.

Upon closer inspection, Candace was shaking and pale, her gaze unfocused. For a moment, it crossed Linda's mind that perhaps Phineas _had _shot himself, but then his voice broke through her thoughts and the idea was pushed away.

"Mom, guess what I did," he said, his voice chilling, filled with something she didn't want to admit was there.

A plate crashed to the kitchen floor and shattered into a thousand pieces in the ensuing silence. No one moved to clean it up.

"Hello, Mum," said Ferb.


	5. They Know

**i actually really hate how this came out ah**

**i'm probably going to edit this chapter later so look out for that? i just really want to be done with this one**

**so here's this chapter let's move on now**

* * *

In the dreary mid-afternoon of the most ambitious day of Phineas's life, he slept peacefully on his brother's bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel from the aftermath of a long-deserved bath. At his side was Perry, equally at ease, twitching in his dreams as he chased after surprisingly quick snails and a surprisingly clumsy scientist.

Ferb did not sleep. He had slept for far too long as it was.

Outside of their window he saw a torrential downpour even worse than that which he had awoken during. Since they had come inside, the storm had only intensified, and now it seemed to threaten the streets with flood or even hail. Through the shining blue optic on the left side of his face, Ferb saw each droplet hit the window one-by-one, and he absently followed their trails down to the sill before returning his gaze further outward. Danville was silent and desolate - much like his own home.

He did not know where Candace and Linda had gone. He wasn't sure if they'd left at all. All he knew was that they were terrified of his very existence and had begun crying as soon as he and Phineas had gone upstairs. Oh, how they cried; he heard them from his place outside the bathroom door, listened in despair as they sobbed and wailed and grieved as though he had died all over again. To them, he _had, _hadn't he? They didn't see Ferb when he walked inside. They saw his corpse, fresh from the grave.

A tear welled up and fell from his right eye, following the patterns the rain left on the window.

Life... had never been a simple endeavor. Not for him. Losing his mother at a tender young age did some harm, certainly; and there was nothing quite like moving from England to America at four years old. Many times throughout his childhood he had been glossed over on account of his quiet nature and the fact that his brother was so _out there_ that certainly _he_ did all the work, would get all the credit. And of course there was the matter of developing feelings for said brother...

But he had powered through these things. Ferb was not one to be taken down easily, and he had found it within his ability to overcome the obstacles before him and live life to the fullest no matter what happened. At the end of the day he had been happy to just..._ be._ To live in a world where he and his brother, his best friend in the whole world, could do as they pleased (within reason) and make the best of every day they had. _Carpe Diem _was the motto to live by and it suited them well.

And yet...

Ferb turned away from the window and gazed dolefully at his sleeping brother. To Phineas, it _was_ in reason to do such a drastic thing. How ever could he seize the day without his trusty sidekick at hand? And the bond they shared... it was stronger than the hardest materials throughout the universe. Perhaps it would have been different had he slowly wasted away under the weight of a tremendous disease. It would have given Phineas time to come to terms with losing that bond, losing his other half. But the way it had happened? The sudden and gruesome end which Ferb found himself lucky to have no recollection of? No... the bond was too strong for that to be acceptable. Especially when Phineas had nature itself in his hands.

He had played God, and he had succeeded in doing so. To Phineas this was all that mattered.

Ferb raised a shaking hand to his face and absently rubbed his cheek. His fingers were chilling on his flesh - the metal hand. Another reminder of what he was. What he had _become_ to maintain the powerful force that was_ Phineas and Ferb. _

_It should be easier than this_, Ferb thought as he looked out the window once again. _We've done crazier things. Does it really matter that he brought me back from the dead? I feel the same, I almost look the same - why should I be upset?_

Acknowledging this didn't make it go away. Maybe it was the weight in his head, the feeling of something foreign attached to his brain, that gave him such a sense of... _wrongness._ He could, in time, convince everyone else that this was alright, just another Phineas and Ferb thing. It wasn't an unfeasible task. There was just... something_ else_, something _off_ about all of it.

He was not fully repaired. He was not a normal living being. Might his limbs begin to rot in time? Would the stitches come undone and release a hoard of flies that had started as maggots eating away at his flesh? And his mind - how could Phineas fully restore a _brain_, something which shut off immediately in the case of death? Could the mechanical implants ever recreate nature's design _flawlessly?_

Ferb closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He was only hours beyond the moment in which he had taken his first struggling breaths. To so deeply consider the matters of his reanimation was..._ exhausting_, and frightening. For now, in the gloomy afternoon with the storm bearing down upon the world, what Ferb _knew_ was that nothing had gone too terribly amiss and Phineas's hard work appeared to have paid off.

And in the end... Phineas was happy. A little different, a little broken... but happy.

And wasn't that all that mattered?

* * *

"Sir? We have a problem."

Francis arched half of his single eyebrow and turned to face his intern of so many years. Carl stood in the doorway of the office, a few sheets of paper clutched tightly in his hands and shaking ever-so-slightly. This was actually rather alarming. From all his years working so close to the O.W.C.A., Carl had seen a great many things and even dealt with a few of them himself. Not much truly disturbed him anymore - at least, nothing pertaining to the agency.

"Doofenshmirtz?" Francis inquired, but Carl shook his head.

"No, sir," he said regretfully. For a moment he seemed to consider his options, and then he took a few hesitant steps closer, holding the papers a little further away from his chest but not outright offering them. "It's... it's the Flynn-Fletcher family."

The Flynn-Fletchers. Agent P's family. Francis felt his heart drop, and for a moment he was certain that another one had died - probably the remaining son. A tragic suicide.

"Has there been another... accident?" he asked softly.

Carl took a shaking breath. The papers crinkled under his grip, still rattling in his hands. "Ah... no, sir. Not exactly." He began to hold the papers out again, then seemed to reconsider and brought them close to his face. Francis watched apprehensively as Carl straightened his glasses and cleared his throat.

"This is a report from Agent S, the squirrel," he began. "She says she was passing through Agent P's neighborhood when she saw him in his backyard. She says..." He swallowed nervously. "...She says she saw his owners, too. The boys. B-both of them."

Francis lowered his considerable brow into a look of confusion. "That's impossible."

"I know, sir."

Both men went silent as Francis tried to process this information. In this distance, there were the general sounds of the rest of the agency; dozens of animals made their respective noises as they conversed with one another and did their office work. It always sounded like an exotic farm around lunchtime.

Francis straightened up and exhaled sharply. "Carl, go contact Wanda. One of her agents lives across the street from Agent P. Ask her to have him investigate. I'm sure Agent S is certain of what she saw, but I need more concrete evidence than just her word."

Carl shifted his weight uncomfortably and glanced down at the floor. "Ah... sir? Shouldn't we get in contact with Agent P?"

To this, the Major frowned and slowly shook his head before returning his attention to his computer. "If he planned on telling us about this, he already would have, Carl. Let's leave him be for now."

"You think he would keep something like this from us?"

Carl had never really had the chance to be more than an intern, and he had never really aspired for it either. He was comfortable filing papers and handling complaints and generally taking care of all the work his boss didn't feel like dealing with. Even so, over time he had begun to become more and more of an integral part of the entire operation, and now he said things like "us" instead of "you" when referring to agency superiors. He didn't mean to, of course, as he knew he was a rather low-ranking individual and certainly nowhere near as important as his boss. Francis, however, had never really stopped him, even though he noticed it almost every time. There was no reason to - Agent P and all the others they dealt with usually worked with both of them and answered to both of them. And a little part of him sort of liked the idea of he and Carl being a team.

"I think he regards his family with more importance than his job," Francis answered gravely. "You remember the alternate dimension thing, don't you? He risked not_ only_ his relationship with them, but his own life, just to keep those two kids safe. If one of them was just brought back from the dead he isn't going to jeopardize it by telling us."

Carl flinched at the mention of the gruesome possibility. "Well, for his sake and ours, I sure hope Agent S was just confused," he admitted. "I can deal with a lot of things, but _zombies?_ That's taking it way too far."

It was strange, really, how much they dealt with in this business - but certainly there had never been anything so upsetting as the reanimation of the dead. Of course, the very idea was considered impossible by most; for the hundredth time in his career, Francis had to truly ponder the astonishing abilities of the boys Agent P loved so dearly.

"I couldn't agree more, Carl," he replied. "Now go talk to Wanda. We need a confirmation as soon as possible to plan any course of action."

"I'm on it, sir."

The door creaked shut behind Carl, and Francis returned his attention to his monitor with a heavy sigh. He wasn't honestly sure what was worse - the situation that had just been revealed, or the email he had received from his son only a few hours before, which he had yet to respond to. Not that he wasn't thrilled about his boy proposing - he's always looked forward to the day Monty got married - but the entire "in love with Vanessa Doofenshmirtz" thing always made his head hurt.

Thinking about it, Francis decided he would _much _rather deal with zombies.

* * *

"I_ heard_ him. I swear to God I did. He sounded _happy._"

Pinky cracked one eye open and lifted his ears as Isabella strolled into the living room with her phone pressed hard against the side of her head. He lifted his head off of his paws as she passed, but she didn't acknowledge him, so after a moment he settled back down and let out a heavy sigh.

"No, Gretchen, I know what I heard," Isabella stressed as she turned on her heel and paced restlessly in front of the couch. "It was _Phineas._ I _swear_ it was him. I didn't hear what he was saying, but he was happy, and you_ know_..." She trailed off as the phone emitted the faintest sounds of another voice.

Isabella's emotions had been extremely unstable for the past month. Pinky had picked up on this, as was his nature as a dog, and he knew what news has distressed her so thanks to the O.W.C.A. Everyone had heard about it. Poor Perry.

Now, though, his owner's emotions had taken a turn - she was excited, but _anxious_, and her patience seemed thin. Pinky remembered Phineas very well - wasn't he _always_ happy? Certainly his brother's death would have a negative effect upon him, but he seemed the type to bounce right back. Was it really such an event if his voice sounded joyful from across the street?

The little dog bounced a bit as Isabella threw herself down on the couch with a frustrated groan. He shot her a reproachful look, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm_ positive!_ One hundred percent positive! Fireside Girl's honor!" As if Gretchen could see her, Isabella raised a hand and placed it over her heart. "Something_ happened_, Gretchen. I don't know what it was, but maybe he's..."

She trailed off again, a bit more reluctantly this time. Pinky cocked his ears and watched her intently.

Whatever her friend said left her feeling uneasy, and Isabella crossed her legs and wrapped her free arm around her middle. "No, I... I don't think... I mean, if _you_ lost someone that close to you, you'd... you'd snap too, right? It doesn't mean he actually... lost his mind. He's _Phineas_, that just couldn't happen."

_You'd be surprised_, Pinky thought with a roll of his eyes. Strong-willed, imaginative thinkers went crazy all the time. The O.W.C.A. was practically based on it.

As if on cue, his collar vibrated against his neck; the Admiral was summoning him to his lair. Pinky stood up and hopped off of the couch without so much as a glance from Isabella. He was used to it, really. Whenever she talked about Phineas her focus became _very _narrow. Dogs understood that sort of thing. It was, after all, within their very genetic code to devote themselves to people single-mindedly._ Especially_ chihuahuas.

Once out of sight, Pinky stood on his hind legs and slapped his fedora on top of his head. With a quick rap of his knuckles he had a section of the wall opening to allow him inside, and once he'd stepped onto the tiny elevator within, the entrance sealed itself shut without a trace.

Going on missions was always a breath of fresh air, at least for Pinky. He loved having the chance to foil Poofenplotz instead of lounging around the house all day. She was a challenge, a ruthless old hag who knew how to gain the upper hand on a tiny little dog. Proving himself in the face of such adversity made Pinky feel validated. He was not just a shaky little chihuahua; he was a_ hero! _Being an agent was, in his honest opinion, the best part of his life.

Well... that and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Once in his lair, Pinky eagerly jumped up to his seat and tried to still himself (to no avail, as usual). Admiral Acronym looked up from some papers she was holding, then set them down and cleared her throat.

"Agent P, I'm sending you out on a different sort of mission today," she informed him gravely. "I've received word from Francis that there are some... unusual happenings across the street. Apparently, another agent believes she saw a walking corpse."

Pinky's eyes shot wide open. Over the past many years he had worked for the agency, he'd heard all manner of strange and daunting things... but _this _was far beyond any of that. He prayed he'd misunderstood.

"According to the report, it appeared to be the deceased young man associated with Francis's agent," Wanda continued. No misunderstanding there. Pinky couldn't help the little whimper that escaped his throat, and his superior didn't miss it.

"I know, it's rather upsetting," she admitted. "But you were specifically requested because of your proximity to the matter. Head over there and see what you can find - and please, Agent P, try to keep yourself hidden. They didn't contact the platypus for a reason."

Of course... Pinky dreaded to think of the possibilities. A walking corpse? Protected by _Perry?_ Perhaps this job wasn't_ always_ the best part of his life. And it wasn't like he was the best recon dog. Still, a mission was a mission; he gave the Admiral an affirmative bark to let her know he was on it despite his misgivings.

"Good luck, Agent P," she called after him as he bounded out of his lair.

The rain had yet to let up, much to Pinky's chagrin. He'd never really been much of a water dog. His ears always got sodden and heavy, and when his head was bigger than most of his body, weighing it down further was never very comfortable. But that was just another one of those things that came with the job. After all, Poofenplotz knew how much he detested water - she'd used it to her advantage _many_ times in the past.

At least it meant he would likely remain alone.

Pinky darted across the road, wrinkling his nose at the stink of wet asphalt and doing his best to avoid the puddles forming in the numerous potholes. Mayor Doofenshmirtz seemed to be dragging his feet on repairing the roads; not usual for him, but that wasn't Pinky's concern. Once he'd reached the sidewalk he'd all but forgotten the holes even existed.

The backyard seemed to be the best place to start. Pinky considered attempting to climb the fence, but previous attempts to do such a thing had almost always led to him flat on his back (with a few splinters to boot). Besides, he was a dog; one of the training courses involved digging! After sniffing around the base of the fence for a few moments Pinky set to work on the sodden mud with all the strength his skinny legs could offer.

The yard was vacant and smelled only of wet wood and rain. Still, Pinky had expected as much, and after squeezing through the hole he'd dug he trotted further across the lawn and began a visual search for clues. His big eyes weren't_ just_ for show. Well... _technically _they were just a result of some selective breeding and didn't really do much, but he still prided himself on his fairly competent eyesight.

Not that... there was really a lot to see. The grass under the tree was flattened a little, and the shed door was partially ajar, but for the most part the Flynn-Fletcher yard looked like it always had. What would zombie clues even look like? Discarded flesh? Dried blood? Pinky had seen a few scary movies with Isabella, but he'd never dealt with _actual _zombies. Then again, this was only a recon mission - there might not even _be _a zombie. Hopefully.

After sniffing uselessly at the flattened patch of grass, Pinky turned and headed for the open door of the shed. It was dark inside, but the second he poked his head in he could clearly smell people, and that was all he really needed. A quick whiff revealed the fading presence of Perry, Phineas, the teen girl...

...and Ferb.

_Oh no, _Pinky thought miserably.

He backed out of the doorway and glanced up at the house with anxiety bubbling up in his gut. Briefly he recalled Isabella mentioning that she'd heard Phineas back here - had he sounded happy because of _this? _Because of whatever had left Ferb's scent so strong inside of their shed?

There was something in one of the upstairs windows, something with an eerie blue glow. It seemed to pierce the rain with its intensity, but whatever it was attached to was blurry and out of view.

They would want proof. A photo. Assurance that his nose wasn't just playing tricks.

Pinky whimpered to himself, then stood up on his hind legs and reached under his fedora for the convenient suction cups stashed within. He approached the house as he attached them to his front paws, and once they were secure, he jumped up onto the yellow siding and began the tedious climb upwards.

The thought occurred to Pinky that he really had no idea how this might end. Did the O.W.C.A. think this was an evil act, something they would need to shut down? Or was this more of a primal fear? Were they merely upset by the the thought that reanimation had truly occurred? The agency had seen a great many anomalies in their time... hell, their agents were intelligent animals! Was it even _possible _for them to be disturbed by something so strange? Pinky thought so; bringing the dead back was... _horrifying_. There was a reason they made scary movies about it.

Moving upwards made the rain absolutely unbearable. The roof was useless; the wind was blowing right against the house, splashing dirty water into Pinky's eyes. He couldn't even wipe it away because he would fall if he did. If there wasn't at _least _a treat for this, there was going to be one hellof a complaint form to answer to!

The sill of the window he'd seen the glow in wasn't easy to get onto. Lacking upper body strength, Pinky struggled for a good few minutes to drag himself up, still blinded and hopelessly weighed down by the rain soaking his fur. He wondered if the light was maybe nothing - just some sort of trinket or maybe an optical illusion. Then what? Would he have to find another window, or actually sneak inside? Had this involved Poofenplotz it'd be no trouble. _Perry's _house, though...

The little dog finally managed to claw his way up and rip his paws from the suction cups to furiously wipe at his eyes. Unsatisfied, he then set his fedora aside and shook his entire body, which only provided minimal relief as the torrent kept coming down. At least it was out of his eyes. Now he could peer inside and see...

...a _very _irritated looking platypus.

Pinky yelped and in surprise and jumped back, just barely managing to keep himself from falling to the ground below. The pattering against the glass managed to mostly drown out the sound, but nothing could drown out that terrible glare. Unsure of what else to do, Pinky gave Perry a small wave, then attempted to sniff at the sill as though nothing were amiss and he usually made his way up to second-floor windows in the rain.

Perry tilted his head and jerked his beak at the fedora cast aside a few inches away.

Golly! How ever did that get there? As though Perry hadn't obviously been watching him the entire time, Pinky hurriedly kicked his hat away from the window and wagged his tail innocently. He wasn't up to agent work, no sir. Just a little afternoon excursion to his neighbor's window. In the middle of a storm.

For a moment, Perry almost seemed prepared to accept this, but then his eyes narrowed into furious slits and Pinky felt a spike of dread stab his belly. If there was anyone worse to offend -

The little dog didn't even manage to finish this train of thought before Perry launched himself at the window, claws clacking against the glass menacingly. Pinky yelped in shock and scrambled backwards. As expected, he slipped off of the ledge and plummeted to the ground below, landing right on top of his discarded fedora.

After a quick check for broken bones, Pinky staggered to his feet and grabbed his hat in his teeth before dazedly running back to the fence. He didn't even glance back before diving into the hole he'd left and sprinting across the road.

* * *

Perry didn't remove his paws from the glass until Pinky was all the way out of their yard. He slid down slowly, still watching the hole in the fence, convinced for a few seconds that his coworker was sure to return.

But he didn't.

"Perry?"

The platypus turned away from the window to face Ferb, who had replaced him beside Phineas a few minutes before. He'd gathered his brother into his arms, and to Perry it seemed as though Ferb was trying to protect the dozing scientist. Phineas was oblivious in his dreams and had the faintest smile on his face.

"Something out there?" Ferb asked quietly, his organic eye filled with concern. Perry could only offer a chatter in reply.

Pinky was looking for something. There was no telling if it was Ferb or not, but _someone _in the O.W.C.A. had to have sensed some kind of disturbance in the Flynn-Fletcher house. And unlike the last time ten years ago, they hadn't had the presence of mind to try and send him away before investigating. Or perhaps they just... didn't feel as though they had the _time. _As if whatever was happening was suspected to become a very big problem very, _very _quickly.

Perry hopped down to the ground and quickly made his way over to the door. Ferb sat up as if to follow, then rethought it and held Phineas closer instead.

Being an Agent was important to Perry, and he had no current plans to jeopardize it. But... this had to be taken care of. A simple recon mission was no reason for alarm, but what if it became something _more? _What if they deemed Phineas or Ferb a _threat? _Family always came first. Even if part of that family had been dead for a month.

Oh, curse the swift relay of information through the O.W.C.A.! Ferb had been reanimated only hours before and already there was someone sniffing around. It was the animal agents, of course, always able to hide in plain sight and see just about everything that ever happened. Being a fairly exotic creature, Perry wasn't used to that sort of thing, but the others... cats, dogs, birds, rodents... they were everywhere. There was never any sort of assurance that they might not be present in any given situation.

Perry stopped in the hallway, just about to put his fedora on, when he heard Linda at the base of the stairs. Her voice still sounded teary and afraid... he felt so awful for her. And for Candace. They were so horrified by this...

"And when your Father gets home? What then? How are we supposed to prepare him for this?"

Of course. Lawrence. Perry grimaced and twisted his hat in his hands. He felt it was his duty to protect this family from the awful things they were feeling... But dealing with the O.W.C.A. was more urgent. He had a better chance of keeping them out of this than he did with attempting to soothe his family. With a silent mental apology to Lawrence, Perry peeled back some of the wallpaper and slipped into the tube hidden there.


	6. Compromise

**short filler chapter right before the real action starts**

**enjoy uwu**

* * *

It was dark inside of the tube. It went through the walls and down into the ground, then made a straight line to Perry's lair with artificial lights installed only at the end. He rocketed through it with the sensation of weightlessness... it was almost as though he was in space. A space with no stars. Blackness, nothingness... Was this what Ferb had experienced?

Perry shot out of the tube and landed nimbly upon the ground, face contorted into a look of rage - but it was for naught. The screen was empty. All the lights, save the few activated as he entered, were off. He straightened up and dusted his hands together in disgust. The floor was filthy; he could feel grains of dirt under his back feet and stuck to his fur.

Maybe it would have been better to go directly to the O.W.C.A. instead of popping into his lair. Perry knew that his superiors rarely made an appearance unless he was about to be sent on a mission; otherwise, they were busy with their own things.

However... Perry placed a finger on his beak in thought. He had several ways of contacting them; surely he could get Monogram on-screen easily. It would be safer for the both of them. Were the conversation to go sour, Perry would do much less damage if alone. In the company of others he was more than likely to use his specialized agent training.

The agent lowered his hand, then turned his wrist so that the face of his watch was visible. An instant after he pressed a button on the side, a holographic Monogram was facing him, looking troubled and then surprised.

"Agent P!" he exclaimed.

Perry pointed to the monitor expectantly.

"Oh, uh, alright," Monogram replied. "Uh, Carl? Start up the video feed, Agent P wants to talk!"

The massive screen flickered to life, and Monogram hastily tried to compose himself. Perry switched off the hologram and slowly walked over to his chair. Rather than taking a seat, he gripped the back tightly.

"Thank you, Carl. Now, uh, what is it, Agent P? Did something happen? Is it Doofenshmirtz?"

Perry dug his claws into the cushion and narrowed his eyes.

The Major fidgeted uncomfortably under Perry's gaze, then cleared his throat and attempted to look more professional. "I can't read your mind, you know. You're going to have to - "

Carl appeared in the frame, holding a piece of paper in one hand. "Uh, sir? This is from Wanda."

Monogram took the paper and read over it carefully. His expression slowly changed from annoyance to understanding, and then worry. He handed the paper back to Carl and attempted to smile.

"Well then, it appears you... had a run in with the other Agent P, huh? The dog? Isn't that just..."

Perry chattered in obvious agitation and ripped a chunk of fabric off of his chair.

Monogram held his hands up defensively. "Alright, alright! Calm down, Agent P! You know exactly why we sent him out there. It was just for confirmation, we wanted to know if your owner really... well, you know. We didn't want to bother you."

Needing confirmation, though, implied that such an occurrence was of interest to the O.W.C.A. And if it was of interest to them... they planned to do something. It could be as innocent as monitoring the house, or it could be as devastating as trying to claim Ferb for themselves.

Perry needed to know their intentions as soon as possible. Without the proper vocal cords, however, he was left to glare at his boss until the man finally spit it out. Asking for things was never an easy endeavor and rarely ended the way he wanted it to. Being an intelligent animal was one thing, but being employed by creatures who spoke in a way he couldn't? It was hell.

Monogram heaved a sigh and rubbed his forehead as though his head ached. "Do you have any idea how serious this is? _Reanimation _of the _dead? _You're lucky the Government hasn't gotten involved! They probably will! And heaven forbid Doof finds out..."

A defensive chatter left Perry's bill despite the fact that he knew it was unintelligible.

"Don't growl at me like that! _You're _the one who fights the guy, you know exactly what sort of person he is! Don't you think he might have _interest _in something like this?"

_Not the point, _Perry thought angrily. To redirect the conversation, he picked up a recent addition to his lair - a framed photo of the boys - and held it up towards the screen.

"Right, right." Monogram scratched his mustache and glanced off to the side, presumably in Carl's direction. "Look, we have to keep an eye on this, Agent P. If you promise to cooperate, you can be the one who reports back on... Ferb." He returned his gaze to Perry and lowered his voice. "I know how much these boys mean to you. Please understand where we're coming from."

Perry exhaled sharply through his nostrils and looked down at the floor. Regular reports on Ferb's status... that was doable. In the past few hours, Ferb had been very much his normal self, if a bit more withdrawn and clingy. That would pass in time. As long as nothing else happened, even the reports would become unnecessary. And what else _could _happen? Phineas was a master at what he did.

The platypus nodded affirmatively, and Monogram sighed in relief.

"Good. I'm, uh... I'm sorry we didn't come to you first, Agent P, we just didn't know..." He trailed off hesitantly, then cleared his throat. "Well, be sure to keep track of what's going on. Doof hasn't been up to much lately, as you know, so you should have plenty of time to make sure everything is on the up and up."

Perry nodded again and offered the monitor a halfhearted salute. He could feel Monogram's eyes on his back as he turned to walk away, but he didn't look back to acknowledge the gaze.

In the silence following his departure, the screen remained on for a few moments, the solitary light in an otherwise dark lair.

"I've got a really bad feeling about, this, Carl."

"Me too, sir."

The screen clicked off, and the lair was plunged into pitch blackness.


	7. Reality

**this one took a HELL of a long time, or at least it feels that way**

**been working on a pnfamily forum and lots of other silly things but i finally got around to finishing this**

**i'm not a huge fan, but hey, that's just how i am**

* * *

Phineas awoke late in the evening, just long enough to greet his father when he came home from a long day at work. He was asleep again within the hour. He was exhausted, and now he was finally free from the duties which had kept him awake; sleep came easy to him.

With his brother having relocated back to his own bed, Ferb found himself alone on top of the lavender sheets that once made him feel at ease, his head pounding in time with a ticking clock out in the hall. The only thing he could possibly do was _attempt_ to sleep. Otherwise the night would stretch on and on and on into infinity, and in the morning he would be lethargic and weak and no happier than before.

Unconsciousness crept up on him like the tendrils of blackness which had dragged him down into death. The room went dark as the orb shut off, and for a time the house was still and quiet as the whole family tried to sleep.

But in time the darkness gave way... and when it did, Ferb saw himself in his mind, saw what he could not possibly see. His own body strewn out on the grass... bones jutting up through flesh, muscle and tendons visible in lacerations and gaping wounds... his right forearm mutilated, hand completely gone save a few splintered bones soaked in blood...

The horrific vision zoomed in on his face, on the long piece of metal jutting up from a bloody wound that had once been his eye. Except it was more than just his eye... it went all the way _through, _poked out on the other side covered in brain matter and a sickly, pus-like liquid which quickly faded into blood.

It had pierced his brain.

From his eye to the back of his head.

_It went through his fucking brain._

Ferb awoke in hysterics. Phineas stirred on his bed, confused; Perry, who had been guarding the bedroom door, immediately jumped up in alarm.

He couldn't stop screaming. Sobbing. Pulling at hair. There was a shaved patch he'd missed, exposing crude stitches holding his flesh closed over the hole in his skull which was covered by a metal plate. He felt it under his scalp. He _felt _it, and he cried harder.

The door flew open in moments and he was quickly engulfed in a soothing embrace accompanied by gentle shushing and soft words meant to chase the fear away.

"There there, son, it's alright, there's nothing to cry about."

But it couldn't go away. It was reality.

Phineas was talking, his voice filled with concern, but Ferb found that his words just slipped right out of his mind. Maybe it was his damaged brain. Maybe he was too scared to hear.

"Dad, I'm dead," he whispered.

"Nonsense," Lawrence replied jovially.

That's all it really was, wasn't it? Nonsense.

Phineas joined in the hug, but even his gentle touches couldn't stop the flow of tears... or the trickle of motor oil leaking from the orb's socket.

* * *

The rain lightened up during the night, and by morning it had entirely stopped. Within just a few hours the sun had pierced through the sodden clouds and turned Danville back into the picture of a happy town it had always been... though much of that joyous spirit had been sapped out in the wake of the accident. There were many who hoped the next summer would bring some of the happiness back; until the time came, they could only wait and struggle to remain optimistic.

Of course, Phineas was happy already, but... well, he was _Phineas. _

Ferb watched his excited sibling race across the yard, an over-sized yellow turtleneck billowing around his frame like a cape. He was like his old self - childlike and rambunctious, eager to seize the day and show off his imagination. Ferb would have found it more endearing were it not that _he _was the product of said imagination.

Still... to see Phineas so happy... it never failed to make him happy, too. At least a little.

"What about a song? You think we should sing a song?" Phineas asked delightedly as he peered into the shed. "I bet your right hand could make some wicked sounds on a guitar!" He vanished into the shadows, then reemerged with a jug filled with dark liquid.

"What is that?" Ferb asked warily, preferring to avoid the topic of musical numbers.

"It's motor oil," Phineas replied as he beckoned Ferb towards the tree. "Keeps you running smoothly. This and a little electricity now and then should make you function great!"

"Oh, great," Ferb muttered dejectedly. "Am I supposed to drink it?"

"Nah, that'd just be messed up," Phineas laughed, seemingly unaware of the irony. "I put a tank in you. Turn around."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Ferb groaned as he obediently turned his back to his brother. "_I put a tank in you _is certainly better than what I was thinking."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"Yes, Phineas, it's sarcasm."

Phineas snorted and pulled Ferb's shirt up to expose his back. "Gosh, I thought you'd be _thankful. _Would you prefer I left you rotting in the ground?"

The sudden revulsion brought on by the comment conflicted with the pleasant tingle of Phineas's fingers on his skin, and Ferb chose to remain silent, unsure of how he could even respond.

"Not like I would," Phineas went on, his voice much quieter. "I can hardly handle a week without you. A _lifetime... _I couldn't do it, dude." He let out a soft chuckle, then changed the subject as though it were nothing: "Now, about that song..."

There was something oddly erotic about being unlatched and opened; the realization made Ferb feel sick in an all new kind of way. He thanked the high heavens that his silence wouldn't be noticed or questioned. Phineas was free to ramble on, and Ferb could struggle to keep himself from throwing up or blowing a load in his pants.

_You should have stayed dead, you twisted freak_, he thought in his frustration.

It wasn't like he _meant _to do this. Hell, as a child, Ferb only ever found himself infatuated with tall, shapely girls who could sing like angels! He went into puberty fully prepared for a wild sex drive and more attractions - but that was supposed to apply to _girls. _Though had he liked boys, too, that would have been fine. But he didn't like boys.

He liked _Phineas._

Ferb blamed the summer of Phineas's fifteenth birthday. It was the first summer they ever spent apart, and it wasn't all that bad until the day Ferb flew back home from England and came face-to-face with a deep-voiced, lanky teenager claiming to be his brother.

He certainly wasn't _feminine. _He looked nothing like the models in the magazines hidden under the bed. Even so, Ferb's enraged hormones latched onto Phineas, onto the way he spoke and the way he moved and every other stupid detail Isabella had been chirping about for years. He was hooked.

Death, it seemed, had done nothing to change this.

"I think I could start it off, then you come out with the guitar," Phineas said as he shook the last of the oil into the exposed tank. "I want to explain what's going on before the big reveal. And then - "

"How about we _don't _do a song?" Ferb cut in. "It's not really... appropriate." He just barely managed to maintain his composure as the panel on his back was pushed shut. Phineas, predictably, didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"You think so?" he asked a little dejectedly. "I figured it would make things easier. Lessen the impact, I guess. But if you don't think it's a good idea..." He trailed off, uncertain, then pulled Ferb's shirt back down and gently smoothed the fabric with shaking fingers.

Nothing could lessen the blow of this news. Ferb knew that, was absolutely certain of it. This was not the typical shenanigans of the boys in the backyard. This was... this was_ beyond _that. If their friends came to accept it, it wouldn't be because of a poppy tune.

As Phineas moved to put the jug back in the shed, Perry emerged from the house and slowly began to make his way across the back lawn. He looked tired and beaten... nothing like the wall-eyed creature Ferb was accustomed to. Still, as the years had gone by, Perry seemed to become less and less _domestic_, and more... human. Just a little bit. Phineas had speculated that it was because of constant exposure to their inventions. Maybe that was it - maybe they'd inadvenrtantly granted him some form of higher intelligence.

"Hey Perry," Ferb greeted as the lethargic platypus approached him. He was offered a chatter in reply, and then Perry curled up at the base of the tree and let out a heavy sigh. Ferb couldn't help but smile; it appeared their beloved pet just wanted to be close to them for the day.

Phineas returned from the shed with a cell phone in his hand. "I'm gonna go ahead and call Isabella now," he beamed. "Just wait until everyone sees you again! I bet they'll be just as happy as Dad was!"

Ferb awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as his brother dialed the familiar number he'd typed in a thousand times before.

The voice on the other end was shocked and ecstatic all at once. Phineas laughed at the greeting, then offered his own: "Hey, Isabella! How are you?"

She was fine, but how was he? Where had he been, what had he done? He sounded happy - why? That was great, of course, him being happy, but... after what happened...

Ferb heard all of this despite his distance from the phone. He wasn't sure if it was because Isabella was loud, or his ears had somehow been improved. And yet... he found that the words she said, and their meaning, quickly left his mind if he didn't focus on them.

"I'll explain everything later," Phineas assured. "For now, I want you to get Buford and Baljeet and meet me in the backyard. I've got something _really_ important to show you." Again, her voice came through the speaker, hurried and confused - but he didn't give her time to speak. "No time, Iz. I've got preparations to make. See you in a few!"

"Preparations?" Ferb asked anxiously.

Phineas shut his phone and slipped it into his pocket before turning to his brother with a smile. "It's nothing much, I just didn't want her asking too many questions. I've never really liked explaining things over the phone." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he took a step forward and casually reached up to the wires that went from Ferb's chest to his throat.

"So far, everything seems to be in working order," he commented jovially.

"Do you have to touch me so much?" Ferb groaned in reply.

The hands at his throat moved up to cup his face, and without looking, Ferb knew he was being given one of those cocky smirks his brother had become rather adept at.

"Dude, I'm the only one who knows how most of your systems work," Phineas replied smoothly. "And even once I've taught you, you'll need me to do most of the handiwork since you're not quite as flexible as you used to be."

"Good to know."

Phineas laughed and patted Ferb's cheek before stepping back and allowing the sleeves of his sweater to cover his hands again. "Don't worry, _plenty_ of modifications are on their way. You're like a new game on release day. Great, but a little buggy, and all the expansion packs aren't out yet."

Ah, yes, gaming metaphors. Ferb rolled his eyes good-naturedly and shook his head. "Whatever you say, Phineas. The DLC better be worth the ten bucks I have to pay for it."

"That's the spirit," Phineas laughed. "Now get inside the shed! I don't want to reveal you right away."

Going back inside was more uncomfortable than Ferb thought it would be. He was sure that the worst experience was waking up in that horrible place...but seeing it all again after a day of deep thought was somehow even more traumatic, perhaps because of how much he noticed this time around. The day before he had been too scared and angry to really take a look around. He'd missed the preservation tank in the corner, filled with green goop; he'd missed the surgical instruments under the table, some still stained with blood; and perhaps worst of all, he'd missed the red wagon backed into the shadows, still caked with dirt. The shovel alongside it gave no room for doubt over its use.

This was reality. In the night, there was the dream; now, there was the shed. Ferb knew he was looking at the evidence of his unholy resurrection even as he struggled to push it out of his mind. It was easier to just let it _be_, to focus on the _cyborg _part and not the _zombie_ part. Yet here it was. The dirt, the blood, the tank. He was dead.

Ferb sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Alright, no need to panic; that would certainly make this meet-up harder than it needed to be. All he had to do was turn around and peer outside through the slightly-cracked doorway. Watching Phineas and Perry was much easier than looking at all of... _that_.

It only took a few minutes for Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet to show up. They all seemed extremely worried, and upon seeing Phineas, Isabella broke into a run and embraced him with all the strength she could muster. Ferb hoped she might do the same for him, but he wasn't counting on it.

"Oh god, Phineas, you look awful!" she cried after she'd pulled away. "Look at you! Have you been eating? Or _sleeping?_ And when was the last time you got a haircut?"

Phineas laughed and gently took Isabella's hands in his own. Ferb felt his stomach churn unpleasantly, but he forced it away, knew it wasn't the issue at hand.

"I've seen better days, I guess," he admitted sheepishly. "Thanks for coming."

Buford was the next to speak up, and he spoke in a tone that was surprisingly gentle for him, but understandable because of the circumstances. "How are ya, pal?"

"Never been better," Phineas replied merrily. "Ever since the funeral I've been working on making life as good as it used to be, and I definitely succeeded."

The trio shared some uncomfortable looks, and Ferb sympathized with them. Hearing that sort of thing from such a crazy little genius wasn't exactly uplifting. Oh, but they had no idea what it meant yet...

Isabella squeezed Phineas's hands and looked into his eyes. Ferb couldn't see his brother's face from the angle he was at, but he knew the look well: blank happiness. No surprise, no anxiety, no embarrassment or fear; just that same old smile under those dark blue eyes.

"Phineas, we're worried about you," Isabella stressed as she searched his gaze for any sort of understanding. "It's been... at least a month. And we don't know where you've been, what you've been doing... please tell me you haven't done anything drastic. _Please_. This was the worst thing any of us have ever been through, and it still hurts, but... I just want us to try and be normal again. Is there any chance we can do that?"

Baljeet and Buford were stationed right behind her as though they expected the worst. Ferb admired that, admired _them_; over the years, as they grew closer to one another, they also seemed to gravitate towards Isabella. They listened when she talked and followed her when the amazing P 'n F were busy with their own thing. She was strong and smart and always capable of helping herself... but now, in the wake of the tragedy, they stood behind her like protective brothers. Buford, a great brick wall of a young man, looked the part; it was Baljeet, short and skinny as he was, who seemed out of place. Yet there was no denying the fire in his eyes. If something happened... if her emotions got too strong, if Phineas did something awful... he would be there. They would_ both_ be there.

Ferb could see the grin on Phineas's face well enough as he spoke. "Oh, going back to normal is exactly what I was going for. Status quo is God, Iz, we all know that. I wasn't going to let all of this happen without trying to fix it."

He let go of her hands and back away towards the shed. When he stopped, he was still far enough away for Ferb to be able to see around him, and he noticed that the formerly sleeping platypus at the base of the tree was now watching the group intently.

"We've done some amazing things in the past, things that defy the very logic of nature," Phineas went on, his voice taking on a more sinister tone. "I realized a long time ago that I could do anything I set my mind to if I tried hard enough - anything at all."

It was Baljeet who cut in this time. "Um, Phineas... just so we are clear... You have not built something like a robot of your brother, have you?" He seemed genuinely worried, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he spoke. "Not that it would not be an amazing invention... but replacing him is no better than having lost him."

Phineas laughed.

It wasn't the happy sound that make Ferb's heart soar; it was the laugh from the previous day, the terrifying chortle of someone who was not entirely there. All three of their friends seemed to flinch back in response, and Ferb had done the same. Only Perry remained stationary. He almost acted as though he were used to it.

"Oh, it's better than that, Baljeet._ So_ much better."

The shed door was flung wide open, creaking on its aging hinges before coming to a stop. The sunlight which pierced the damp clouds cast a sickly light upon the object of interest, who shielded his eyes for a moment before slowly dropping his arms back down to his sides.

They looked at him much the same way Candace had. There was horror, and disgust, and confusion... it seemed almost impossible to even process such a thing. They could, though. This was just the sort of thing within Phineas's power. This was just the sort of thing he'd be willing to do. It was, in a way, the worst case scenario they had feared - they never knew quite what said scenario would be, but they knew it would be _drastic_.

And now... here they were.

"Everyone, for the second time, I would like you to meet Ferb Fletcher," Phineas beamed. Ferb stood perfectly still as his brother moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "His brain has been repaired with computer technology the likes of which most people can only _dream_ of. All robot limbs are fully functional, if a bit... well, _robotic_. But I'm working on synthetic skin covers. All the organs are working properly, his trachea has been mostly repaired... show 'em, Ferb!"

They were still staring. Isabella looked like she might scream at any moment; Baljeet seemed unsteady and nauseous. Buford, of course, was trying to put on some kind of brave face, but it was painfully obvious that he was just as upset by this turn of events.

"Hello," Ferb greeted with a small wave of his metal hand.

It was Isabella who spoke first, her voice wavering even as she struggled to remain firm. "Phineas... no. _No._ This isn't _right._ He's... " She faltered, then took a step forward. "You can't do this."

The hand on Ferb's shoulder tightened, then fell away. "What do you mean? I already did it, Isabella. And it worked perfectly. Aren't you happy to see Ferb again?" Phineas offered her a puzzled smile and tilted his head as he talked. Oblivious and innocent; that was how he did things.

"That's _not_ Ferb," Isabella hissed.

Ouch.

Phineas took two steps forward, his body language suddenly defensive, his expression completely changed. "Yes it is! How could you even _say_ that? I_ know_ this is Ferb! I repaired his brain and dug him out of his grave _myself!_"

Baljeet gasped and put a hand over his mouth. Buford muttered "my god" under his breath. Isabella, however, didn't seem to react much beyond the first sign of angry tears in her eyes.

"Ferb is _dead,_ Phineas."

He stumbled back as though she'd stung him. "How... No he _isn't! _He's right here, Isabella, right behind me!" He gestured furiously to his creation, who only looked away. "I_ fixed _him! I told you all I could do it, and I _did!_"

Something seemed to thrum in Ferb's head, like a low, dull pain out of nowhere. He reached up to rub his skull uselessly as Baljeet spoke up.

"This is too much, Phineas," he said shakily. "This is not a fleeting project which will disappear at the end of the day. It... it is _unholy_."

"Humans ain't meant to play God," Buford added.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ferb saw Phineas's lips curl into a cruel smile. "_God?_ You think I'm playing _God?_ I didn't do this to bend the will of nature. I did it to bring my brother back. Last I checked, God doesn't do that for people who aren't prophets."

"Shut him down, Phineas," Isabella demanded in reply.

There it was again. Except this time, it was less painful, and more... numbing? Something like that. Ferb placed both hands on his head now, groaning as he did; no one seemed to notice.

"I'm _never _going to lose him again," Phineas snarled. "You're my best friends! _His_ best friends! You've been here all these years, watching us reverse gravity and go into space and turn solids into liquids! How is this any _different?_"

"Shut him down," Isabella repeated gravely. "Or _I will._"

It was like an electrical surge running through his brain. Somewhere in his conscious mind, Ferb wanted to call out to Phineas, but before he could, everything shut down.

The blackness had returned for him.

* * *

The last thing Isabella ever wanted was to be rude to Phineas. She was hardly rude to _anyone,_ let alone the boy she'd loved for all those years. But this... this left no room for kindness, or for sympathy. She had planned a reaction for just about everything she could imagine him doing and none of them had been as remotely horrifying as this was.

This... _abomination_... was not Ferb. It could not be allowed to remain.

Perhaps, had she more time to think, she might have come to terms with it. Perhaps they all would have. Life could truly return to normal, despite the grayish tint to his skin and the stitched wounds littering his body; everything could be alright again.

But she did not have time to think. There was only time to react, and in doing so, going back to normal became entirely impossible.

Phineas was about to respond again when Ferb made a distressed, guttural sound. They all turned towards him to discover that he seemed to be in overwhelming pain; he had his hair clenched in his fists, his body doubled over as a sludgy brown liquid dripped from his lips.

"Ferb?"

Phineas's voice seemed to snap him out of whatever it was he was experiencing. His head snapped up, and it was Isabella he focused on with the shining blue orb which sat where his left eye once had. His right, so animated moments before, now stared vacantly towards the ground and didn't blink.

Ferb had always been agile and quick; it was just another one of those strange talents he possessed. Even with one of his feet replaced, he had lost none of his speed, and by the time anyone realized he was moving he had already reached Isabella and had his right hand drawn back for what would be a devastating blow.

Adrenaline was a shockingly powerful thing. Before she could even register the situation, Isabella found herself standing behind Buford, who took the attack right to the chest and just barely managed to stay upright. It was about then that she realized she was screaming.

Baljeet was the one who shoved her away, sent her flying into the grass a few feet out of Ferb's reach. In retrospect she would wish she had aided them. With all her training, she was an excellent fighter. But she did not join the fray. She could only stare, sobbing, clumsily backing away as blood once again painted the grass.

It ended just as quickly as it had begun. In her shock and terror, Isabella did not see what happened; it was only Phineas, standing out of the way and watching silently, who saw Perry suddenly spring into action from his place beneath the tree. All it took was one well-aimed kick to the center of Ferb's chest. Phineas pondered this, as he was prone to do; how could such a small, simple creature know where and how to attack?

Ferb thudded onto the ground and went limp with Perry shaking on top of him. After a tense moment, his chest jerked to life as he began to breathe, though he remained unconscious.

The world seemed to move in slow motion. Isabella found herself standing to her feet, approaching the broken and bloody bodies of her friends, hardly able to focus through the tears long enough to see if they were breathing. Her body seemed to tighten up all over as she realized how much this reminded her of Ferb's death only a month before. The blood, the exposed bone, the screaming and crying... was that still just her? Or was she remembering Phineas, screaming that he could fix everything?

It was Candace who appeared at her side with a cell phone in hand. She was alarmed and afraid, asking questions Isabella couldn't seem to understand. As Candace called 911, Isabella looked over to the shed and found that they were the only ones still in the yard. The attack seemed to have happened in that very minute, but Phineas was already gone, his... _project_ in tow.

The sirens were just as deafening as before.

* * *

The clouds had finally left the sky, and the sun was free to shine down upon the earth with all its might. For once in his life, Phineas detested this, and he closed the curtains before setting about with his business.

Ferb had not let go of Perry since he'd become conscious again. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs pulled up to his chest, platypus nestled against his collarbones and held there by shaking hands. Perry didn't seem to mind; in fact, he seemed grateful for it. Phineas knew he wasn't going to be able to part them for the time being. He didn't blame them, either. A hug sounded really nice after all that had happened.

He approached his brother with a wet rag in hand. "Let me see your right arm," he commanded gently. "I need to get the blood off."

"What's wrong with me?" Ferb whispered as he held out his hand. "I... I didn't... I don't even remember what happened..."

"You know what the human brain is like, Ferb," Phineas replied as he began scrubbing the tainted metal. "I did my best, honestly, but even the best computer is bound to have some glitches. Looks like I need to work on your aggression a little..."

"I wasn't even _mad._ Just... the way she was talking..."

"Shhh. It's alright. We'll get you fixed up."

Ferb fell silent, as he was known to do, and Phineas continued his task. So much fixing to be done... He had no idea that Ferb was so unstable. He honestly thought he'd perfected the brain's design, at least as much as he could. The only consolation was that the new arm worked perfectly. The way it had torn through their flesh, splintered their bones... amazing! Horrible, because Baljeet and Buford were his friends, but amazing nonetheless.

"I can fix you, and I'm sure they'll be fine," Phineas added after a moment. "And even if they aren't, we know I can fix them too, don't we? Everything will be fine, Ferb. This is just a momentary roadblock."

"And when the cops come for us, charge us with attempted murder?"

Phineas stopped what he was doing and looked up into his brother's eyes. Ferb was near tears, filled to the brim with a million questions and a billion problems he dared not speak of. It hurt to see him so upset. So _scared_.

"We can't let that happen, now can we?"

Ferb rested his head on Phineas's shoulder and silently wept into the fabric of his sweater. Perry, now comfortably held between his boys, offered up a tiny chatter filled with fear and regret.

This was reality now.


	8. Revelation

**just a quick intermission to tide y'all over**

**chapter 8 will be a while coming**

* * *

There were two beds in Buford's hospital room. His own had already bowed comfortably under his weight, and the heart monitor had become a soothing sound that let him knew he was still alive. He had survived the attack. His ribs were cracked, his legs broken, arms torn and bruised... but he had survived.

The other bed was empty.

Buford didn't know if Baljeet was alive or not. He had only briefly seen his friend as they were pushed into the ambulance; he had sustained much less damage, but at the same time, he was much weaker. They had to do surgery. And it wasn't the surgery Buford went through, where they stitched him up and put him in casts - it was major surgery. Something about a punctured lung.

He could be _dead_.

This was all Phineas's fault. That wacky little shit always seemed a bit too eager to mess everything up. Of _course _he'd dabble in reanimating the dead, why not? And Ferb, who was a zombie no matter how advanced Phineas said he was, would obviously end up going berserk and trying to murder everyone. It was basic science fiction - but Phineas did it anyway. That little nutjob needed to be in a hospital way more than Buford did. A _mental _hospital, that is.

The doctors said he had a bit of head trauma from the fight. Buford had waved it off, but he couldn't deny that he had a killer headache and couldn't really keep his focus. He thought he kept falling asleep, but couldn't be sure; _everything _felt like a dream. Ever since he first saw that abomination reality had started falling to pieces.

"Yeah, everything _is _a little topsy-turvy, isn't it?"

The door was still shut. The window was locked. The lights had been turned down low by a nurse a few hours prior, and had not been raised.

"You're wrong about one thing, though. It didn't start going wrong today. It started going wrong when Ferb died."

It was Phineas who stepped into Buford's field of view, his eyes glowing even in the dim light. There was blood on his face, his sweater, his hands... he was covered in it. When he opened his mouth, it dribbled out from under his tongue, painted his teeth and chin like the careful strokes of a paintbrush.

"It's not going to get better, either. _Normal _doesn't exist anymore."

Buford tried to shake his head, but he found himself unable to move. "The hell is wrong with you? Why are you doin' this?"

Phineas grinned like the Cheshire Cat, but the cat had fallen into the garden, got covered in the paint meant for the roses.

"Because I'm God, Buford. And God does whatever He wants."

The paint on the walls was chipping away to reveal something much more sinister underneath - a blue glow, bright as the stars, piercing Buford's soul.

"I killed them all," the wall droned. "The nurses. The officers. Baljeet."

"No," Buford whispered.

"I killed them all," it repeated. "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending."

"So sayeth the Lord," Phineas chimed in with a laugh. "_Amen._"

* * *

The door opened, and in a flash, the vision was gone. The walls were white. The lights were dim.

"He's stable," said the nurse in the doorway. "We'll be keeping him in Intensive Care for the night. Then he can join you in here, sweetie."

Buford could only nod. She was gone in an instant, the door shut in her wake. He found himself unable to recall her departure. She was there, and then she wasn't.

He was alone.

Unable to move his arms, Buford sobbed openly into the empty air, his tears cascading down his cheeks and drenching his neck and ears.


	9. Inhibitions

**this chapter was originally a bit longer, but quality over quantity, right?**

**i hope this was worth five months of waiting**

* * *

"Ah-ha, Perry the platypus! You have fallen prey to... Agh. No, no, this isn't working at all."

Norm watched the script fall to the floor, its pages splaying open to reveal lines of Courier New text typed up in the wee hours of the morning. His Father (no, no, _creator, _it was only _creator)_ gave it a contemptuous glare before turning to the window and gazing out into the day.

Norm leaned over and picked up the script, thumbing through it in a fruitless search for the source of the doctor's anger. "Sir? Would you like some help rehearsing your lines?"

Dr. Doofenshmirtz waved his hand dismissively. "No... it's no use, Norm. He's not coming anyway."

He meandered over to the couch, and as he switched on the television, Norm returned his attention to the script. It started as they all did; the greeting, the trap, the invention... but somewhere around the third page it stopped being so typical. There were paragraphs upon paragraphs of monologue, and yet... it wasn't a backstory. It wasn't even an explanation. It seemed more like an _apology, _a long-winded speech on how he was touched more than anything that Perry had even bothered to show... and beyond that it ceased being a script altogether. It read more like a diary entry, a melancholy rendition of the events of the past few weeks, events Norm had only the vaguest knowledge about.

"Sir?"

Heinz heaved a dramatic sigh and didn't even bother looking back. "_What, _Norm?"

"Did somebody die?"

From out in the heart of the city came a scream; it was closely followed by a wailing car alarm and a barking dog. An agent at work, Norm thought.

Heinz turned to his side and hooked one arm around the back of the couch_._ "How did you...?" He trailed off as his eyes found the script. There was an intense sadness about him, Norm saw; something beyond the usual depression. Something darker.

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault, sir. You'd never kill anyone. You won't even kill Perry the platypus!"

Heinz flinched back as though he'd been stung. His hands were visibly shaking as he struggled for a response, and the thought suddenly occurred to Norm that perhaps _Perry _had died - but it was quickly dismissed. If Perry the platypus had met with an unfortunate fate, Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have not only spoken of it, but he probably would have kept the body for himself and pretended it was still alive. Norm knew insanity was really just a platypus away for his Father.

"In other news, local authorities have identified the culprit in the case of Buford van Stomm and Baljeet Tjinder, who were both brutally attacked just days ago in our own backyard." Pictures of the boys in question flashed across the screen as Heinz and Norm both turned to look.

"Do we... do we know them?" The way Heinz asked the question made it seem rhetorical, yet Norm still studied their faces for an answer. They _did _seem a little familiar... especially the larger one with the underbite.

"The only witness to the crime was interviewed earlier today, and it appears that a local _bear _is to blame."

The bar along the bottom of the screen read _Phineas Flynn, Witness to Bear Attack. _Norm watched as Heinz sat up in alarm, then fumbled for the remote so the volume could be raised. _This _boy he knew.

"Oh, man, it was _awful,_" said Phineas as the wind whipped at his hair and the over-sized sweater he wore. Perry the platypus was in his arms and either half asleep or shutting his eyes against the breeze. "I've never even seen a bear outside of the zoo, and then... it was just _there. _I didn't even have time to react. In fact, if it wasn't for Perry here... he's a tough little guy!"

For having apparently fought a _bear, _Perry the platypus looked pretty good, Norm thought. He almost relayed this out loud, but that was when Heinz spoke, his voice filled with equal parts awe and fear.

"Phineas, what did you _do?_"

* * *

Ferb emerged from under his bed with a frustrated sigh. He'd known the wrench wouldn't be there, but he had to make sure - Phineas managed to leave his things in all manner of places, _especially _when Ferb wasn't around to pick up after him.

The clutter of their bedroom was a nightmare to search through. It was all clothing and crumpled papers, signs of Phineas's sleepless nights and chaotic days; it was apparent that no one else had dared set foot inside within the past month. And why would they? Anything Phineas even _touched _was off limits. He was a bomb with the clock disabled, able to blow at the slightest provocation.

Ferb had noticed his own clothes had been picked up and moved; he wondered, for a moment, how bad the fallout had been. He'd never seen Phineas blow up before, but based on the things he heard whispered between his parents, his brother had erupted on more than one occasion after the funeral. And of course there was the matter of the day of the accident...

_"How can you be okay with this?" Mum asked, her voice thick and wavering, her eyes no-doubt filled with tears. "Lawrence, that isn't..."_

_"It _is_," Dad said. "I know my son, darling. And you know yours. This can't be too much of a shock, can it? Don't you remember what he said? 'I can fix it, I can fix it,' over and over..."_

_"While he tried to kick you!"_

_"He was upset. We all were. But he _did _say he could fix it. Screamed it, really. He was rather serious about it."_

_"That doesn't make it okay!"_

_Dad had sighed, but it was still with that loving patience he was so filled with, and Ferb imagined him grabbing his mother by the shoulders and smiling at her as he spoke. "Forget right and wrong, Linda. This is just our boys. This is what they do. Could we ask anything less of them?"_

Ferb shook his head and lifted himself up to his feet. The conversation had unsettled him, and he wished he hadn't heard it; he had only been on his way to the bathroom and hadn't intended to eavesdrop. It was the first time he'd heard Mum speak in days... it was fitting, he supposed, that it was to decry what had been done to him. She seemed to be having the most trouble with it. And hadn't she always? If Candace had ever been able to actually bust them...

No, there was time for that; he had a wrench to find.

He was digging through a pile on his brother's bed when it finally occurred to him to use the optic. It just wasn't something that came to him naturally. He still thought of having two eyes, never really focused hard enough to notice the difference - but he knew it was there. Phineas had gone over every detail with him, had gushed about the tech behind it and how it was made to see things the human eye couldn't _dream_ of seeing. All he had to do was focus, and the optic would take care of the rest.

Ferb looked around the room as if to make sure he wasn't being watched. A large part of him feared all that Phineas had done, and to _use _it... He had almost killed one of his best friends by using his new arm. Even if the optic was harmless, it seemed like a betrayal of sorts, as though he were _accepting _what had been done to his body. He wasn't sure he could ever get that far. It was too much, too terrifying; every night was filled with contemplation and self-loathing that all orbited his mechanics.

Still... he could use the optic.

The hum in his head was imperceptible outside of his skull and _maddening _all the same. He would get used to it, surely, would grow to expect it; now, frightened though he was, he gripped his head in his hands and closed his eye firmly. This was _wrong_. It was so wrong, so _much, _and for a moment he felt the weight of his situation bearing down upon him as it had when he first realized what had happened -

And then he saw the wrench.

With a tiny sigh of pure delight, Ferb jumped over the piles on the floor and made his way to the desk. The wrench was just slightly buried under crumpled papers, and were it not for the optic, he would never have noticed its glimmer in all the gloom. It looked so beautiful to him as he lifted it to his face and inspected its details. It was the special one - the one with Phineas's name etched on the side. His favorite tool. Ferb had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday.

There was a paper on the desk that had been written on. Ferb noticed it only after he had begun to pull away, all ready to go deliver the wrench to his brother. His optic made a tiny _click-click _sound as it refocused twice.

His name was in the first line.

Curious now, Ferb set the wrench down and pulled the paper out from under the pile of failed successors that had been balled up and left to rot. The letters were shaky, and the paper was stained with tears; it hurt to look at as soon as he noticed. He could see Phineas in his mind, sitting alone in their shared bedroom, scrawling his messy letters as a fresh wave of sobbing overtook him. The pain must have been unbearable. And he had tried to let some of it out by...

...writing a song?

Ferb narrowed his eye as the humming started up again.

_Ferb, my brother, my bestest best friend_

_The other day I watched you meet your end_

_They assure me you are meant to ascend_

_But this is a problem I swear I will mend_

_Cross my heart and hope to die_

_Stick a rebar in your eye_

It stopped after that, though Ferb could see erased words crossing over one another below, and he was sure every other paper was much the same - Phineas was trying to make a song. Or he had been, anyway, before his _real_ work started. After that...

Ferb set the paper down and rubbed his temples with an agonized groan. He felt like_ screamin_g. At every turn, there was just another reminder, more _proof _that this was all happening for real and he wasn't just having the worst nightmare in the world. He just wanted to wake up. Each day that had passed since his... resurrection... had been worse than the last in a variety of different ways. If only he could just _wake up._

A chatter at the door caught Ferb's attention, and he turned away from the desk and the horrible papers to find Perry watching him with his usual placid expression.

Ferb narrowed his eyes.

"You have a lot of nerve pretending everything is the same," he said. "I know what you did."

Perry chattered again and waddled into the room, his tail dragging on the floor behind him.

With a sigh, Ferb seated himself at the desk chair and watched Perry clamber onto Phineas's bed and make himself comfortable in the mess. He was nesting - a very normal thing for him to do. But things _weren't _normal, and Perry _knew _they weren't normal, and Ferb _knew _that Perry knew.

"You kicked me."

Perry plopped down in his makeshift nest and blinked.

"Right in the middle of the chest. While I was _attacking. _Phineas told me you did."

Perry twitched, then pulled his head back and scratched his cheek with his back foot.

"Maybe Phineas was imagining things," Ferb said to himself as he rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Maybe he's that fucking insane now." It felt bad to say it out loud. He wasn't sure why he did; it was a thought he could have kept in his mind, with so many other things. Maybe he was trying to get a rise out of Perry. There had to be _something _in there that was smarter than he let on; how else could he have known where to hit? Ferb couldn't remember the action itself, but he did remember waking up with Perry panting on top of him, obviously afraid and looking directly in front of his face for once.

Now, Perry was blank, his eyes carefully watching two different walls. _This is pointless, _Ferb thought.

"C'mon, I have to give Phineas his wrench." Ferb stood up and stretched his back, then retrieved the tool from its place on the desk and took a step towards the door.

His mind, so fractured in the wake of the accident, kicked into gear at the sight of the wrench; he had picked it up, then set it down again because... because he had seen the song. Yes, the song, the thing he was agonizing over before Perry came back in. If he left it behind, Phineas could see it and remember...

Ferb used his metal hand to snatch the paper up and crumple it into a ball. He would take it with him to the kitchen and put it in the trash there - he couldn't take any chances.

He was afraid of what he would do if he heard those lyrics out loud.

* * *

"Just set it on the counter, thanks."

Ferb set the wrench down beside the sink - an installation Phineas had made after the accident - and walked behind his brother to see what he was doing. He'd noticed the laptop in the shed before, but he'd never actually seen Phineas using it; now he was typing away in a program Ferb didn't recognize, making split-second calculations and notes all over the screen. Ferb put his hands on Phineas's shoulders and leaned against him.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Phineas surprised him by laughing.

"I'm just getting some things ready," Phineas said without looking back. "Can you lay on the table for me?"

Ferb tightened his fingers on Phineas's bony shoulders, then relaxed, afraid his metal hand might leave bruises. "Why? I thought you wanted to... use your wrench on something. I don't really have anything that needs tightening." He was nervous now; he hated when Phineas so much as refilled his tank. He didn't want _more _prodding and probing.

"I just wanted to have it; I don't need it right now." Phineas stopped typing, his eyes whizzing across the page, and then he turned around and looked Ferb in the eye. Ferb dropped his hands down to his sides and tried to not look awkward. "What I need right now is for you to lay down. Just trust me, okay? I have some things I need to attend to. I don't want... _We _don't want another accident. Do we?"

With a heavy sigh, Ferb shook his head and looked down at the floor. He felt like a puppy that had pissed on the carpet. He couldn't _help _it, hadn't been in control, but _still_ he felt horrible... and he had every right to! His 'accident' had left two of his best friends clinging to life in hospital beds. He couldn't even go visit them to apologize. And here was Phineas, about to strap a doggie diaper on him so he wouldn't do it again. Or something to that effect.

And really, he had no choice but to comply.

The table was just as cold and hard as it had been before. Ferb tried to relax as Phineas bustled about beside him, but it was difficult; his entire life had changed on this table. His body had been pieced together like a gruesome puzzle on this table. He hated it, wished he could smash it to pieces - but that sort of thought was dangerous. After what had happened, Ferb knew he very well might jump up and just _do _it. His anger was suddenly a very real,very _destructive_ force.

Phineas appeared in his field of view with thick black straps in his hands. "I'm gonna have to tie you down, dude. You know... just in case."

Ferb swallowed hard and made an attempt to nod. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be afraid or turned on.

Over the years, he had mastered the art of redirection to cope with such things. As Phineas leaned over and began to strap him down, Ferb thought about the roof; it looked like it could use some repairs. It wasn't leaking yet, but it was certainly on its way with all the rain that had been happening. And there was such fragile machinery in the shed... some of it wouldn't survive if it got wet. They might have to rebuild things and that would take time. He would fix the roof before then. Maybe Phineas would help. Oh, who was he kidding; of course Phineas would help. And if it was a warmer day maybe he would take his shirt off -

No! No, none of that. Wrong train of thought. Ferb mentally berated himself before moving onto the tools he would need. A ladder, of course, and a hammer -

"That should do it," said Phineas, and Ferb was instantly focused on him again. "I hope, anyway... I'm gonna need some stronger ties. Try not to kill me, okay?" He was smiling, and Ferb couldn't find it in himself to smile back. Phineas didn't seem to notice how_ terrified_ he looked. Then again, Phineas didn't notice a _lot _of stuff; that was part of the problem, wasn't it? The way he just smiled at terrible things. Things that could kill him in an instant.

Ferb took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _Relax, _he thought. _Just let him do his thing. _

Phineas moved to the top of the table and gently lifted Ferb's head; within a few seconds, Ferb was feeling the horrible pressure of being _opened, _and it took all of his willpower to keep from shuddering as a cable was plugged into his head. Of course it was his brain Phineas was focusing on. It couldn't just be his arm, or his heart, it had to be his _brain. _He dreaded to think of how much had become cybernetic. In his peripheral vision he could see Phineas go to his laptop, and Ferb knew now that the program was Phineas's own design, something tailored to his project that had no-doubt been used to write codes and sequences currently at work inside of Ferb's head.

"Now that you're all hooked up, I'll tell you a bit about what I'm doing," Phineas said as he began typing away. "I've been brainstorming a lot of things and I'm _pretty _sure this all has something to do with your inhibitions."

Ferb arched an eyebrow, knowing it wouldn't be seen but feeling the need to do it anyway.

"So what I'm gonna do is shut them off completely and see if anything changes. I'm pretty sure I did it right, but there's a chance you have some kind of glitch in there that's making them not function..."

Since he wasn't looking, Phineas didn't notice the way Ferb's eye shot wide open, or the way he was shaking as he said, "Could you not? I need those."

Phineas laughed as typed in a few final things. "It'll be okay, Ferb, I'll turn them back on. I just have to see if they're functioning properly, if anything changes without them." He moved to press the enter key, then paused, his head tilted. "But... why are you worried? Are you afraid of what you'll say?" He hit the key as soon as he'd said it, then looked back and waited for a response.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I'm afraid I'm going to actually hurt you," Ferb said in a rush, his eye pleading. "I'm afraid I'll rip off these straps and leap across the room and tear you apart. And I'm afraid I'll come onto you, or maybe I'll just jump up and start humping you. I don't know. You look so gorgeous, Phineas, I don't know what I might do. I wouldn't have the presence of mind to hold myself back like I have been. I just want to kiss you. I want to grab you by the hair and _kiss _you. What if I do that? What if you hate me? My inhibitions have been the only thing keeping me restrained. You can't take that from me."

Phineas leaned against the counter, his eyes wide. His heart was beating faster now than it had when Ferb had attacked their friends.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

For once completely speechless, Phineas could only shake his head as he turned back to the computer and typed in a new command. It suddenly felt much too hot in the shed, and he wanted to leave, but he knew he couldn't - he had to tend to Ferb. Ferb came before everything. Ferb was his best friend, Ferb was his greatest invention, Ferb was...

Madly in love with him.

Phineas hit the enter key a little too hard, then pulled his hand back and rubbed at his neck.

It took Ferb a few moments to gather his thoughts, and when he did, it felt like his stomach twisted itself through a narrow tube and fell into his intestines. The fear was akin to how he felt the last time he'd been on this table, and in that moment he wished Phineas had never brought him back.

"Oh _God," _he said, his voice weak.

And there it was again. The pain, deep in his head, where metal met bone and computer chips melded with brain matter. It came in waves; first they were gentle, and then they came harder, faster, and Ferb groaned as Phineas moved to his side and reached for the cables.

"Ferb? Look, we can talk about this - "

A wave of electricity brought the blackness with it, and he went under, down into the nothing.

* * *

Candace hesitated in front of the door, just as afraid now as she had been in the past. Only this time... she knew what she would find.

It was hard to not feel worried about the both of them; they were still her brothers, even if one was insane and the other was dead. Even in the wake of the attack she felt so much _love _for them. She hated it; she wanted to be furious, wanted to be in the front lines of the growing war against them. But... they had technically been busted already. Her drive to do anything had been taken from her.

Just as she reached for the handle, the door flew open, and she found herself face-to-face with Ferb.

He didn't spare her a second glance as he weaved around her, and she watched him charge the fence before leaping impossibly high and clearing it. She didn't even have a chance to react before Phineas was at her side.

"Ferb! Come back!" Candace couldn't help but frown at him; he sounded like he was calling for Perry. "Ferb, we can talk about this!"

"What just happened?" she asked, her voice wavering.

Phineas sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "He... he told me some stuff, and then he flipped out. I thought he was... I thought... He was acting like he did before he attacked. But he just ran away."

Against her better judgement, Candace reached out and put a hand on Phineas's shoulder. He looked at her as though she were a stranger... but then seemed to relax, and she could see her _brother _in his eyes.

"Just give him some time," she said. "I'm sure he'll come back on his own."

Great. Now _she _was talking like he was Perry. She wished he was; a runaway platypus was much easier to deal with.

Phineas looked over the fence with his lips drawn in a straight line. Candace knew that look, and was sure he was going to go after Ferb; nothing she said could stop it. She briefly considered joining him... then drew back from the idea. Not only was this _their _thing, but she still couldn't so much as talk to Ferb directly.

He _scared _her.


End file.
